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LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON,     N.    J. 

Presented  by 

rnrs."?,  \X^.3obes. 
n-  ■  ■         sec 

Division 

Section 


■        /I   'j 


CRITICAL  ESSAYS, 


A  FEW  SUBJECTS  CONNECTED  WITH  V^*.  %? 


JAN  r;G  1924 


THE  HISTORY  AND  PRESENT  CONDITION 


SPECULATIVE  PHILOSOPHY. 


By  FRANCIS  BOWEN,  A.  M. 


JIolXol  Twv  ri(av  cpiXoaocpdv  Xs'yovGi. 

LUCIAN. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BY  H.  B.  WILLIAMS. 

1842. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1842,  by 

Francis    Bo  wen, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE: 

METCALF,    KEITH,    AND    NICHOLS, 

PRINTERS  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY. 


PREFACE 


The  following  essays  have  all  appeared,  at  various 
times,  in  the  pages  either  of  the  "  Christian  Exam- 
iner," or  of  the  ''  North  American  Review."  They 
are  now  printed  by  themselves,  not  from  the  mere 
ambition  of  making  a  book,  but  because  they  relate 
mainly  to  one  subject,  and  fall  naturally  into  a  series, 
so  that  being  read  in  connexion,  there  is  a  better 
chance,  that  their  meaning  and  purpose  will  be  clearly 
perceived.  Some  over  partial  friends  had  also  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  see  them  in  a  distinct  publication ; 
and  as  most  of  the  pieces  were  written  at  their  sug- 
gestion, or  under  their  encouragement,  comphance 
with  their  wishes  seemed  to  be  almost  a  duty. 

In  some  of  the  shorter  essays,  a  few  paragraphs, 
relating  only  to  an  estimate  of  the  books  under  re- 
view, are  here  omitted.  With  this  exception,^  the 
articles  are  reprinted  without  alteration,  —  without 
changing  even  the  personal  pronoun,  the  use  of 
which  is  sanctioned  by  invariable  custom  in  period- 
ical writings,  in  respect  of  the  advantage  it  affords, 
in  veiling  the  appearance  of  egotism.  It  is  possible, 
therefore,  that  some  repetitions  and  incongruities  may 
be  detected  in  different  parts  of  the  volume;  and 


% 


IV  i  PREFACE. 

there  are  a  few  remarks  in  the  earHest  pieces,  which 
I  should  now  be  wilUng  to  quahfy,  or  to  state  with 
considerable  limitations.  Study  and  reflection  on 
such  subjects  would  be  profitless,  if,  after  a  consider- 
able lapse  of  time,  they  had  produced  no  modifica- 
tion of  opinion.  In  speculative  philosophy,  no  one 
should  ever  cease  to  be  a  learner.  But  on  all  the 
important  topics,  which  are  here  considered,  farther 
labor  and  inquiry  have  only  confirmed  the  writer  in 
his  views,  and  slight  alterations  it  seemed  hardly  ad- 
visable to  make,  when  time  could  not  be  spared  for 
writing  the  whole  work  anew,  and  digesting  it  into 
a  regular  treatise.  These  articles,  therefore,  should 
be  regarded  as  imperfect  essays,  —  as  the  fruits  of 
rather  desultory  studies  in  a  favorite  branch  of  in- 
quiry, which  I  once  hoped  to  pursue  with  more  care 
and  method,  though  circumstances  have  now  made 
it  necessary  to  exchange  them  for  other  pursuits. 

The  first  essay  was  written  only  five  years  ago, 
but  some  of  the  anticipations  expressed  in  it  are 
already  verified.  The  exclusive  study  and  admira- 
tion of  some  foreign  models,  the  effect  of  which  was 
then  visible  only  in  the  fantastic  manner  and  garb 
assumed  by  certain  writers,  to  which  the  criticism 
was  chiefly  directed,  have  now  begun  to  modify 
opinions,  and  to  excite  controversy  on  subjects  of 
great  interest.  Abstract  speculations,  when  confined 
to  the  proper  objects  of  philosophical  inquiry,  do  not 
attract  much  notice  ;  but  they  acquire  importance, 
and  excite  the  attention  of  all  reflecting  persons, 
when  they  are  made  to  bear  on  the  vital  principles  of 
moral  and  religious  truth.  It  becomes  a  duty,  then, 
not  only  to  watch  them  in  their  results,  but  to  trace 
them  to  their  sources,  and  to  ascertain  whether  the 


PREFACE.  V 

fountain  is  pure,  the  waters  of  which  are  conducted 
to  the  homes  of  men,  and  must  serve  either  to  impart 
heahh  and  strength,  or  to  create  and  nourish  disease. 
Philosophers  have  availed  themselves  of  the  intimate 
relation  which  exists  between  religious  truth  and 
their  own  objects  of  study,  to  gain  an  audience  from 
persons,  who  would  otherwise  feel  little  interest  in 
their  researches.  They  must  not  complain,  there- 
fore, if  the  process  is  reversed ;  if  their  own  theories 
are  soifietimes  viewed  only  in  their  religious  aspect, 
and  are  taken  or  rejected,  according  as  they  lead  to 
sound  or  erroneous  opinions  in  theology.  If  meta- 
physics are  made  a  test  of  the  truth  of  Christianity, 
it  is  but  equal  justice  to  make  Christianity  a  test  of 
the  correctness  of  metaphysics. 

When  M.  de  Tocqueville,  in  his  work  upon  the  in- 
fluence of  democracy  on  the  opinions,  manners,  and 
social  condition  of  the  people  of  this  country,  deemed 
it  necessary  to  devote  one  chapter  to  a  consideration 
of  the  philosophical  method  of  the  Americans,  he 
was  obliged  to  confess,  that  there  was  no  country  in 
the  civilized  world,  where  they  cared  less  about  phi- 
losophy, than  in  the  United  States.  The  observa- 
tions on  which  his  remarks  were  founded,  were  taken 
some  years  since,  and  at  that  time,  perhaps,  the  state 
of  opinions  justified  the  assertion  to  its  full  extent. 
It  would  need  to  be  qualified  somewhat  at  the  pres- 
ent day.  But  the  traveller  deserves  great  credit  for 
his  sagacity  in  detecting  those  features  in  the  social 
and  intellectual  condition  of  the  people,  which  led 
him  to  remark  on  their  fondness  for  general  ideas, 
and  their  aptitude  for  embracing  a  particular  system 
in  philosophy,  if  it  should  ever  be  brought  to  their 
notice.  He  might  have  modified  his  first  remark, 
i* 


Vi  PREFACE. 

therefore,  by  anticipating  a  time  when  philosophical 
studies  would  become  a  favorite  pursuit  among  a 
certain  class  of  our  countrymen.  No  attentive  ob- 
server can  be  ignorant  of  the  fact,  that  such  studies 
have  acquired  favor  very  rapidly  of  late,  so  that  it 
may  not  appear  too  sanguine  to  believe,  that  a  philo- 
sophical school  will  ultimately  be  established  in 
this  country,  with  a  character  quite  distinctive,  as 
that  which  belongs  to  the  philosophy  of  England, 
France,  and  Germany.  The  collegiate  coflrse  of 
instruction  in  metaphysics  is  improved  and  enlarged. 
The  latest  European  writers  on  the  subject  are 
eagerly  studied,  and  translations  and  reprints  of  a 
few  of  their  works  are  published,  and  find  a  ready 
sale.  The  effects  of  the  prevalence  of  such  a  taste 
are  already  perceptible  in  the  conduct  of  the  religious, 
and  some  of  the  political  controversies  of  the  day. 

We  might  attribute  this  philosophical  movement, 
—  if  we  may  give  it  such  a  name, — to  local  and  tem- 
porary causes,  if  there  were  not  some  features  in  the 
character  and  condition  of  the  people,  which  would 
seem  to  promise  it  a  great  extension  and  a  permanent 
influence.  As  M.  de  Tocqueville  has  clearly  shown, 
a  love  of  theories  and  abstract  speculations  is  fostered 
by  the  democratic  character  of  our  institutions.  We 
are  eminently  a  theorizing  people.  No  traditional 
opinions,  no  hereditary  prejudices  of  classes  and  fam- 
ilies can  here  exist,  to  fetter  the  wide  range  of 
thought.  Each  individual  is  but  a  unit  among  a 
multitude  of  equals,  and  the  conclusions  which  he 
forms  for  himself,  he  is  tempted  to  apply  to  all  around 
him,  because  none  are  separated  from  him  by  any 
strongly  marked  line  of  station,  power,  or  acquire- 
ments.     He   generalizes   rapidly,  and   his  common 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


discourse  often  consists  in  great  measure  of  abstrac- 
tions.    When  he  thinks  most  about  his  own  rights 
he  talks  most  about  the  rights  of  the  people.     This 
disposition   to   take   wide   and   sweeping   views    is 
strengthened  by  the  necessity,  which  the  possession 
of  a  vote  imposes  upon  him,  of  forming  some  opinion 
upon  nearly  all  political  topics.    To  reason  from  facts 
in  matters  of  legislation  and  government,  to  correct 
the  aberrations  of  theory  by  the  slow  inductions  of 
experience,  to  limit  the  application  of  a  rule  by  the 
particular  circumstances  of  a  single  case,  is  a  pro- 
tracted and  difficult  task.      We  are  too  busy  and 
active  a  people,  to  give  time  and  labor  to  such  an 
undertaking.     But  general  principles  are  soon  stated 
and  easily  learned.     By  their  aid,  the  most  compli- 
cated and  difficult  questions  are  quickly  settled,  and 
any  person  will  run  the  risk  of  applying  them,  since 
the  consequences  of  the  measure  are  not  to  aifect  him 
alone,  but  will  fall  upon  the  community,  of  which 
he  is  only  a  part,  and  such  a  small  part  too,  that  he 
fancies  his  share  of  the   evil  will   be  very  small. 
Hence,  there  is  great  readiness  among  us  for  the  dis- 
cussion of  general  principles,  and  every  person  feels 
quite  able  to  settle  them  for  himself;    but  in  the 
management  of  his  private  concerns,  he  will  often 
ask  the  advice  of  another,  and  in  all  cases  directly 
affecting  an  individual,  he  is  slow  to  form  an  opinion, 
and  distrustful  of  his   own   competency  to   direct. 
Few  will  venture  to  advise  an  experienced  merchant 
about  the  conduct  of  a  particular  adventure,  or  an 
old  farmer  about  the  cultivation  of  a  single  field  ; 
but  all  are  able  to  decide  questions  of  legislation, 
which  are  to  affect  the  whole  commerce  and  agricul- 
ture of  the  country,  because  the  decision  here  seems 


Viil  PREFACE. 

to  depend  only  on  general  principles.  As  all  doubts 
respecting  the  great  subjects  of  foreign  and  internal 
policy  may  be  determined  with  such  facility,  by  the 
aid  of  a  few  abstract  ideas  and  sweeping  generaliza- 
tions, no  wonder  that  the  government  itself  has 
silently  been  altered,  and  that  the  legislative  power 
is  no  longer  exercised  in  the  mode  contemplated  by 
the  founders  of  the  constitution.  The  theory  of  a 
representative  government  is,  that  the  body  of  the 
people,  having  neither  the  leisure  nor  the  ability  to 
frame  laws  for  themselves,  should  delegate  this  power 
to  a  few  individuals  selected  for  the  purpose,  and 
confide  the  affairs  of  state  to  their  wisdom  and  integ- 
rity, always  holding  them  responsible  for  a  breach  of 
the  trust.  But  the  temptation  to  exercise  the  legis- 
lative power  directly  is  so  strong,  and  all  doubts 
respecting  the  proper  policy  are  so  quickly  determined 
by  a  few  general  truths,  that  the  real  business  of  the 
country  is  now  transacted,  not  in  the  halls  of  legisla- 
tion, but  in  the  primary  assemblies  of  the  people. 
Legislators  are  chosen,  not  in  respect  to  their  char- 
acter and  talents,  but  to  the  soundness  of  their  prin- 
ciples ;  and  they  are  sent  to  the  capitol,  not  to  debate 
and  decide  among  themselves,  but  to  register  the  will 
of  their  constituents.  At  the  most,  only  the  details 
of  legislation  are  confided  to  their  discretion. 

It  is  not  extravagant  to  suppose,  that  philosophical 
systems  may  come  to  be  a  favorite  object  of  study 
among  a  people,  who  are  so  familiar  with  abstract 
reasoning  and  broad  generalizations.  General  prin- 
ciples in  politics  do  not  differ  so  widely  from  the 
axioms  of  the  metaphysician,  that  the  transition  from 
the  one  class  to  the  other  is  a  very  difficult  one.  The 
habit  of  mind,  which  is  created  by  long  familiarity 


PREFACE.  ix 

with  universal  ideas,  involves  both  the  disposition 
and  the  capacity  to  enter  upon  the  broad  field  of 
philosophical  speculation.  And  this  tendency  is  in- 
creased by  the  intimate  connexion  between  some 
speculative  systems  and  those  political  topics  and  in- 
terests, which  occupy  the  attention  of  the  multitude. 
Philosophy,  like  religion,  considers  all  men  as  equal. 
Its  subject  is  the  human  mind,  or  man  in  general, 
considered  apart  from  all  the  peculiarities,  by  which 
each  person  is  distinguished  from  his  fellows.  Its 
conclusions  are  universal,  having  no  respect  to  times, 
countries,  or  individuals.  Some  theory  of  natural 
rights,  therefore,  seems  properly  to  be  embodied  in 
these  conclusions.  And  many  writers  on  the  sub- 
ject have  so  considered  it,  and  have  made  their  whole 
theory  of  human  nature  subservient  to  the  defence 
of  a  particular  system  of  politics  and  government. 
Hobbes,  for  instance,  founded  his  scheme  of  absolute 
despotism  on  his  account  of  the  origin  of  knowledge, 
and  his  explanation  of  the  natural  state  and  disposi- 
tion of  man  ,•  and  Locke's  principles  of  toleration  are 
the  obvious  results  of  the  principles  established  in 
his  essay  on  the  human  understanding.  The  present 
popularity  of  Cousin's  writings  in  this  country,  is  to 
be  attributed  in  great  measure  to  his  brilliant  decla- 
mation in  favor  of  the  rights  of  man,  by  which  he 
sought  and  obtained  the  support  of  the  strong  demo- 
cratic party  in  France. 

When  the  habit  is  once  established  of  dwelling 
upon  first  principles  and  abstract  truths,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  any  regard  to  facts,  or  any  respect  for  the 
limitations  suggested  by  experience,  it  is  not  surpris- 
ing, that  theories  of  society  should  be  propounded 
from  time  to  time,  so  novel  and  extravagant  in  their 


X  PREFACE. 

character,  that  we  are  tempted  to  doubt  the  sanity  of 
their  advocates.  Plans  of  universal  reform  and  the 
regeneration  of  mankind,  are  proposed  with  a  fre- 
quency, which  appears  rather  marvellous  to  those 
who  are  accustomed  to  expatiate  on  the  practical 
tendencies  of  the  age.  Indeed,  such  wild  specula- 
tions may  be  attributed,  in  part,  to  a  reaction  against 
the  narrow  and  selfish  views,  which  are  too  common 
among  the  class  of  practical  men.  Mr.  Owen  con- 
trives one  scheme  for  reforming  all  the  evils  of  social 
life,  and  some  enthusiasts  in  our  own  vicinity  propose 
another  ;  and  a  single  fact  illustrates  the  soundness 
of  the  reasoning  employed  in  both  cases ;  —  that, 
starting  from  premises  of  an  opposite  character,  they 
arrive  at  nearly  the  same  results.  The  honesty  and 
sincerity  of  these  persons  are  beyond  question,  and, 
since  they  are  far  above  the  class  of  ignorant  and 
foolish  fanatics,  we  can  ascribe  their  extravagances 
only  to  the  abuse  of  general  theories,  when  not  lim- 
ited by  experience. 

The  possibility  of  widely  affecting  the  minds  of 
men  by  abstract  speculations,  even  when  their  time 
is  occupied  in  manual  labor,  or  in  very  practical  pur- 
suits, was  fully  proved  by  the  philosophers,  whose 
writings  prepared  the  way  for  the  first  French  revo- 
lution. The  effect  was  more  startling  then,  because 
it  was  repressed  for  a  long  time  by  outward  circum- 
stances, and  at  last  flamed  out,  as  it  were,  in  a  single 
night.  In  that  fearful  convulsion,  the  wildest  schemes 
for  the  regeneration  of  France,  and  the  general  im- 
provement of  the  human  race,  were  proposed  by  men, 
who  openly  threw  off  all  religious  restraint,  and 
whose  actions  showed  equal  disregard  of  common 
humanity  and  justice.     They  talked  of  nothing  but 


PREFACE.  Xi 

philanthropy  and  virtue,  while  their  lives  were  sul- 
lied by  every  species  of  cruelty  and  vice.  They  de- 
stroyed the  religion  of  the  country,  and  rejected  all 
belief  in  the  existence  of  a  God,  in  order  to  dissem- 
inate pure  philosophy,  and  to  worship  the  goddess  of 
reason. 

The  writings  of  the  Encyclopedists,  from  which 
the  revolution  received  its  violent  and  peculiar  char- 
acter, inculcated  a  high-toned  philanthropy,  and  the 
greatest  respect  for  all  moral  obligations,  though  they 
were  based  upon  a  philosophy,  which  was  eminently 
sensual  and  irreligious.  There  is  no  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  these  men  were  insincere  in  their  profes- 
sions of  regard  for  the  interests  of  virtue  and  humanity. 
Many  of  them  were  probably  enthusiasts  in  the  cause, 
and  were  actuated  by  that  earnest  but  vague  desire 
for  an  opportunity  to  benefit  all  mankind,  which  is 
often  the  fruit  of  a  life  spent  in  study  and  contem- 
plation of  abstract  truths.  The  disastrous  results  of 
their  speculations  must  be  attributed  to  their  real 
ignorance  of  human  nature,  and  not  to  their  ill  inten- 
tions. By  inflaming  the  minds  of  the  people  with 
their  briUiant  theories  and  kindling  eloquence,  they 
wielded  a  power  of  the  magnitude  of  which  they 
were  fully  conscious,  though  they  could  not  tell  in 
what  direction  its  force  would  be  spent.  They  had 
the  power  to  destroy  all  old  associations  and  preju- 
dices by  the  force  of  abstract  reasoning,  but  they 
could  neither  restrain  nor  direct  the  enthusiasm, 
which  they  had  created. 

It  would  be  irrational  to  suppose,  that  a  theorizing 
and  speculative  turn  of  mind  will  ever  become  so 
common  in  this  country,  as  to  prepare  the  way  for 
the  prevalence  of  a  philosophy  quite  as  heated  and 


Xll  PKEFACE. 

erratic,  as  that  which  obtained  in  France.  We  are 
secured  from  such  a  calamity,  by  the  nature  of  the 
second  cause,  that  here  deserves  remark,  as  fostering 
the  growth  of  a  native  philosophy  in  this  country. 
I  mean  the  religious  character  of  our  ancestry,  and  of 
the  institutions  and  habits  of  thought,  which  they 
bequeathed  to  their  descendants.  The  rigid  Puri- 
tanism of  the  fathers  of  New  England  left  a  deep 
imprint  on  the  intellect  and  feelings  of  its  inhabit- 
ants, which  the  lapse  of  centuries  can  hardly  efface. 
Their  creeds  and  systems  of  faith,  it  is  true,  were 
soon  modified  by  the  love  of  change,  and  the  constant 
impulse  of  free  inquiry.  But  the  spirit  of  their  tenets 
survived  the  body.  Where  their  religious  opinions 
were  openly  assailed,  or  quietly  laid  aside,  their  breath 
still  animated  the  dispositions  and  prejudices  of  the 
people.  A  deep  tone  of  seriousness,  a  self-denying  spirit 
in  regard  to  amusements,  and  extreme  cautiousness 
in  guarding  the  outward  conduct  were  left  ingrained 
in  the  character.  These  peculiarities  attract  the  no- 
tice of  foreign  visitants  at  the  present  day.  They 
are  the  most  striking  features  in  the  general  aspect 
of  the  population. 

Any  speculative  systems,  that  obtain  a  permanent 
footing  here,  must  conform,  in  a  greater  or  less  de- 
gree, to  these  prevailing  influences.  A  gay  and 
mocking  spirit,  like  that  which  animated  the  philos- 
ophy of  Helvetius  and  Voltaire,  will  not  be  tolerated. 
A  reckless  and  blasphemous  one,  like  that  of  d'Hol- 
bach  and  Diderot,  would  be  scouted  with  general  in- 
dignation. If  philosophers  find  themselves  trammeled 
in  their  speculations,  by  the  positive  doctrines  and 
unyielding  spirit  of  Christianity,  they  must  not  pro- 
claim open  war,  but  strive  to  weaken  the  enemy  by 


PREFACE.  Xiii 

a  secret  and  insidious  contest.  They  cannot  triumph 
as  avowed  foes,  b  ut  by  borrowing  the  robes  of  the 
priest,  and  pretending  to  minister  at  the  ahar,  they 
may  hope  to  desecrate  the  service,  and  to  destroy  the 
worship. 

A  religious  parentage  has  entailed  upon  us  a  mul- 
titude of  religious  controversies.  While  an  interest 
in  the  general  subject  of  revelation  is  kept  alive  by 
long  habit  and  old  associations,  the  freedom  of  inqui- 
ry and  love  of  change,  which  mark  the  age,  have 
led  to  an  almost  endless  diversity  of  doctrine.  The 
disputes,  that  arise,  are  conducted  mainly  by  abstract 
reasoning,  for  a  people  impatient  of  any  absolute  au- 
thority insensibly  lose  the  power  of  being  convinced 
by  appeals  to  Scripture.  The  arena  of  theological 
contests  is  thus  opened  to  the  layman,  the  logician, 
and  the  speculatist,  and  the  weapons  of  attack  and 
defence  are  borrowed  from  the  popular  philosophy  of 
the  day.  We  are  not  to  wonder,  therefore,  that  the 
questions  at  issue  are  made  to  turn  upon  these  specu- 
lative dogmas,  —  that  they  relate  less  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  texts,  and  more  to  what  may  be  termed 
the  metaphysics  of  Christianity.  Here,  again,  we 
perceive  the  influence  of  that  system  of  doctrine, 
which  the  Pilgrims  brought  with  them  to  this  coun- 
try, and  which  is  still  paramount  in  New  England. 
Calvinism  is  eminently  a  metaphysical  creed  ;  it  pro- 
duced the  only  man,  who  has  acquired  an  European 
reputation,  by  metaphysical  writings  published  in 
America.  Though  no  successor  is  found  able  to  bend 
the  bow  of  Edwards,  the  study  of  his  works  still 
keeps  alive  a  taste  for  the  science,  of  which  he  was 
so  distinguished  an  ornament.  The  turn  which  he 
gave  to  the  inquiry,  treating  it  more  as  a  philosopher 
b 


XIV  PREFACE. 

than  a  divine,  was  a  departure  from  the  method 
common  in  his  day.  In  this  respect,  future  con- 
troversialists are  more  hkely  to  follow  his  example, 
than  that  of  his  contemporaries. 

A  foreigner  has  remarked,  that  the  clergy  in  this 
country  have  shown  great  skill  in  adapting  them- 
selves to  the  opinions  and  institutions  of  the  people 
among  whom  they  are  placed :  that  they  have  studi- 
ed conformity  to  the  democratic  instincts  of  the  popu- 
lation, and  thus  have  preserved  their  influence,  by 
sacrificing  a  portion  of  their  consistency.  He  forgot 
to  remark,  that  the  clergy  are  themselves  a  part  of 
the  people,  and  that  their  sentiments  are  moulded 
by  the  same  general  causes,  which  direct  the  forma- 
tion of  public  opinion.  It  is  no  impeachment  of  their 
sincerity,  therefore,  to  say  that  the  remark  is  well 
founded.  Among  a  people,  who  are  so  much  en- 
gaged in  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  and  so  successful  in 
its  attainment,  a  religious  doctrine,  which  should 
entirely  proscribe  any  attachment  to  worldly  goods, 
would  find  but  few  adherents.  A  compromise  is 
eff'ected,  therefore,  between  the  temporal  and  spirit- 
ual interests  of  men,  and  the  love  of  gain  is  tacitly 
sanctioned,  when  it  does  not  directly  interfere  with 
religious  practice.  Self-denying  principles  in  this 
respect  are  seldom  inculcated.  The  consequence  is, 
that  religion  is  made  wholly  an  affair  of  the  inner 
life,  a  matter  of  abstract  faith,  and  outward  manifes- 
tations of  it  are  somewhat  neglected,  while  great 
importance  is  attached  to  purity  of  doctrine. 

This  state  of  things  naturally  leads  to  a  low  esti- 
mate of  the  forms  and  external  rites  of  Christianity, 
and  such  a  tendency  is  increased  by  the  strong  de- 
sire, which  a  republican  nation  always  entertains, 


PREFACE.  XV 

for  simplicity  and  frugality  in  its  political  adminis- 
tration. In  matters  both  of  religion  and  government, 
we  are  unwilling  to  submit  to  the  burden  of  shows 
and  ceremonies.  We  attribute  but  little  importance 
to  the  details  of  worship.  It  is  said,  that  even  the 
Catholic  priests  of  this  country  attach  themselves 
rather  to  the  spirit,  than  the  letter  of  their  church 
precepts,  and  allow  the  invocation  of  saints,  and 
other  special  forms  and  means  of  worship,  to  be  qui- 
etly laid  aside.  They  content  themselves  with  a 
recognition  of  the  abstract  principle,  on  Avhich  these 
rites  are  founded,  and  allow  the  practice  of  them  in 
some  measure  to  be  forgotten.  A  religious  tempera- 
ment, therefore,  finding  few  opportunities  of  express- 
ing itself  in  acts  of  outward  worship,  tends  to  create 
an  abstract  and  contemplative  frame  of  mind,  and 
leads  to  an  ideal  life.  Theological  writings  gradual- 
ly adapt  themselves  to  this  musing  disposition,  and 
speculative  dogmas  form  its  appropriate  aliment. 

In  these  rather  desultory  remarks,  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  point  out  some  peculiarities  in  the  character 
and  situation  of  our  countrymen,  which  seem  to 
favor  th  e  growth  of  a  native  school  of  speculative 
philosophy.  Some  of  them  may  appear  of  small 
importance,  but  their  general  tendency  cannot  be 
mistaken,  even  if  they  produce  as  yet  no  visible 
efiect.  The  consequence  may  appear  more  likely 
to  follow,  if  we  consider  the  fact,  that  in  each  of  the 
respects  above  mentioned,  the  situation  of  the  people 
here  is  the  very  opposite  of  that  of  our  brethren  in 
England,  among  whom,  at  the  present  day,  meta- 
physical science  is  confessedly  at  a  lower  ebb,  than 
either  in  France  or  Germany.  Dugald  Stewart  has 
ended   his    long  and   honorable   career,    in   which, 


XVI  PREFACE. 

though  he  made  the  science  respectable  and  popular 
by  the  weight  and  amiability  of  his  character,  and 
the  elegance  of  his  style,  he  did  not  materially  con- 
tribute to  its  progress.  His  successor  at  Edinburgh 
appears  to  be  more  occupied  with  poetry  and  politics, 
than  with  the  duties  of  his  office,  as  professor  of  phi- 
losophy. His  colleague,  Sir  WiUiam  Hamilton,  the 
accomplished  professor  of  logic,  has  shown  so  much 
learning  and  acuteness  in  treating  metaphysical 
questions,  as  to  make  the  public  regret,  that  he  has 
published  nothing  but  a  few  articles,  written  with 
great  ability,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  At  present, 
he  appears  to  be  the  sole  representative  of  the  Eng- 
lish school  of  philosophy.  We  may  have  greater 
hopes  of  the  cause  of  mental  science  in  this  country, 
from  the  absence  of  those  peculiar  circumstances, 
which  appear  at  present  to  obstruct  its  progress  in 
England. 

It  is  natural  to  look  with  curiosity  and  interest  on 
those  influences,  which,  operating  on  the  birth  of 
American  philosophy,  may  serve  to  determine  its 
whole  future  character  and  tendency.  It  is  remark- 
able, that  the  authors  most  studied  among  us  at  pres- 
ent do  not  belong  to  the  English  school,  but  to  the 
French  and  German,  and  that  the  general  features  of 
their  speculations  off'er  the  strongest  contrast  to  those 
traits,  which  have  always  distinguished  the  writers 
on  the  same  subject  in  our  mother  country.  It  is 
not  going  too  far  to  say,  that  Locke,  Clarke,  Berkeley, 
and  Reid  are  not  so  much  talked  about  in  this  coun- 
try, as  Kant,  Fichte,  ScheUing,  and  Cousin.  The 
reason  probably  is,  that  the  only  living  writers  of 
much  note  are  of  the  continental  school,  and  their 
works  naturally  first  attract  attention  at  the  com- 


PREFACE. 


XVll 


mencement  of  our  inquiries.  They  have  written 
largely,  also,  on  the  character  and  influence  of  the 
labors  of  their  predecessors,  and  their  opinions  and 
judgments  are  rather  hastily  adopted,  before  an  op- 
portunity is  gained  for  individual  examination.  The 
very  partial  and  incorrect  views,  for  instance,  which 
many  persons  entertain  of  Locke's  philosophy,  can 
be  explained  only  on  the  supposition,  that  Cousin's 
Criticism  of  the  Essay  on  Human  Uiider standing 
is  much  more  studied  than  the  Essay  itself.  In  no 
other  way  can  I  account  for  the  prevalence  of  the 
opinion,  that  Cousin's  work  is  a  masterpiece  of  philo- 
sophical criticism,  when,  —  whatever  may  be  its 
merits  in  refuting  certain  obnoxious  doctrines,  that 
are  stated  in  it,  —  these  doctrines  are  quite  gratui- 
tously ascribed  to  Locke,  with  reference  to  whom, 
indeed,  the  whole  work  is  but  a  tissue  of  misrepre- 
sentations. So  also  the  belief,  that  Kant's  philoso- 
phy is  a  refutation  of  skepticism,  must  rest  on  the 
assertion  of  some  of  his  countrymen,  among  whom 
there  exists  a  very  different  rule  and  estimate  of 
what  constitutes  skepticism,  from  that  which  obtains 
in  this  country  and  in  England.  Instead  of  confut- 
ing his  predecessor,  Kant  simply  established  Hume's 
doctrine  on  a  diff'erent  basis,  and  then  carried  out  its 
principles  and  modes  of  reasoning,  till  they  covered 
the  whole  field  of  knowledge  ;  and  this  work  he 
performed  with  such  an  appearance  of  method,  com- 
pleteness, and  close  deduction,  as  to  change  what 
was  merely  a  philosophy  of  doubt  and  uncertainty, 
into  a  theory,  which  may  be  called  the  dogmatism 
of  unbelief. 

Most  of  the  following  Essays  were  written  in  the 
hope  of  throwing  some  light  on  the  character  and 
h  * 


XVIU  PREFACE, 

tendency  of  a  few  of  those  foreign  systems  of  phi- 
losophy, which  have  recently  become  popular  among 
us.  My  object  was  to  consider  each  of  them  as  a 
whole,  and  in  its  probable  operation  on  the  course  of 
thought  in  this  country.  Partial  and  fragmentary 
views  of  their  doctrines  are  common  enough ;  but 
there  are  great  obstacles  in  the  way  of  forming  full 
and  correct  notions  of  their  nature  and  bearing. 
They  are  of  great  compass,  and  exist  in  many  dis- 
tinct works  ;  they  are  wrapped  in  the  darkness  of  a 
foreign  language  ;  and  many  of  them  are  further 
veiled  in  an  obscure,  intricate,  and  repulsive  termi- 
nology. The  few  translations,  that  have  appeared, 
are  not  executed  with  much  skill,  and  contain,  at 
the  most,  but  the  mere  fragment  of  a  theory.  Be- 
fore their  probable  influence  can  be  estimated,  it  is 
necessary  to  have  some  connected  sketch  of  them  as 
a  whole,  though  the  sketch  be  necessarily  a  very 
imperfect  one.  It  is  important,  also,  to  consider  them 
in  the  relations  which  they  bear  to  other  systems,  to 
ascertain  their  points  of  departure  from  doctrines 
formerly  received,  and  thereby  to  know  whether 
they  will  probably  aid  or  obstruct  the  progress  of 
philosophy.  This^fieral  design  I  have  kept  in 
view,  even  in  t^se  Essays,  like  the  two  on  the 
argument  for  the  Divine  Existence,  which  may  ap- 
pear from  their  title,  to  relate  to  a  wholly  different 
subject.  The  influence  of  the  study  of  foreign  phi- 
losophy may  now  be  perceived  in  the  mode  of  think- 
ing and  reasoning,  which  many  persons  have  adopted, 
on  topics  that  have  only  a  remote  connexion  with 
metaphysical  science. 

It  may  appear  to  some,  that  the  writer  entertains 
a  strong  prejudice  in  favor  of  the  metaphysicians  of 


PREFACE, 


XIX 


the  English  school.  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  snch 
bias,  so  far  as  concerns  the  doctrines,  which  are 
taught,  apart  from  the  manner  in  which  they  are  con- 
veyed, and  the  spirit  with  which  the  inquiry  is  con- 
ducted ;  though  the  great  names  of  Bacon,  and  Locke, 
and  Berkeley,  and  Reid,  stand  as  high  in  the  general 
history  of  philosophy,  as  any  others,  of  which  any 
single  country  can  boast.  No  one  need  to  be  asham- 
ed of  a  hearty  admiration  of  their  characters  and  ser- 
vices, though  he  may  not  admit,  that  their  labors 
have  exhausted  the  subject,  and  may  search  for  fur- 
ther contributions  to  the  science,  wherever  they  can 
be  found.  But  in  all  that  relates  to  the  mode  of 
philosophizing,  to  the  tone  of  argument  and  opinion, 
and  to  the  manner  and  spirit  in  which  the  investiga- 
tion is  conducted,  we  may  fearlessly  assert  the  great 
superiority  of  the  English  speculatists,  over  their 
brethren,  on  the  continent.  It  was  well  said  by 
Sir  James  Mackintosh,  that  '^  an  amendment  of  the 
general  habits  of  thought  is,  in  most  parts  of  knowl- 
edge, an  object  as  important  as  even  the  discovery  of 
new  truths,  though  it  is  not  so  palpable,  nor  in  its 
nature  so  capable  of  being  estimated  by  superficial 
observers.  In  the  mental  and  moral  world,  which 
scarcely  admits  of  any  thing  which  can  be  called 
discovery,  the  correction  of  the  intellectual  habits  is 
probably  the  greatest  service  which  can  be  rendered 
to  science."  If  the  writings  of  Bacon  and  Locke 
and  their  followers  do  not  contain  more  discoveries, 
than  those  of  any  other  school,  they  have  certainly 
done  more  good  to  the  minds  and  hearts  of  those 
who  have  studied  them.  The  character  of  their 
speculations  is  eminently  sound  and  healthful.  They 
remove  prejudices  and  vindicate  the  right  of  free 


XX  PREFACE. 

inquiry  ;  they  inculcate  generous  sentiments ;  they 
discoumge  the  love  of  paradox  and  fanciful  systems  ; 
they  show  the  compass  of  the  human  faculties,  and 
while  they  animate  the  spirit  of  discovery,  when  direct- 
ed to  proper  objects,  they  tend  to  check  its  arrogant 
and  hopeless  endeavors ;  they  inspire  the  liberal  and 
catholic  feeling,  which  would  make  philosophy  the 
property  of  the  multitude,  rather  than  the  exclusive 
heritage  of  a  few.  If  it  argues  a  timid  and  slavish 
spirit,  a  blind  adherence  to  the  past,  and  distrust  of 
the  future,  to  recommend  their  example  in  these 
respects,  there  will  be  many,  who  will  court  the  re- 
proach, and  glory  in  the  companionship,  which  they 
will  have  under  the  imputation. 

Some  materials  for  instituting  a  comparison,  in 
these  particulars,  between  English  philosophy  and 
the  speculations  which  had  their  birth  in  France 
and  Germany,  will  be  found,  in  the  following  pages. 
The  bearing  of  these  systems  on  the  great  truths  of 
natural  and  revealed  religion,  is  a  point  of  so  much 
importance  in  the  general  estimate  of  their  character, 
that  no  apology  need  be  made  for  the  space  given  to 
its  consideration.  A  science  that  is  merely  specula- 
tive, offers  no  boon  of  such  great  price,  that  it  can 
compensate  mankind  for  the  loss  of  immortal  faith 
and  hope  ;  and  if  the  reproach  of  an  irreligious  ten- 
dency be  indelibly  affixed  to  it,  it  will  be  the  part  of 
true  wisdom  to  renounce  its  cultivation  altogether. 

There  are  some  allusions  in  these  Essays  to  the 
speculative  opinions,  which  have  recently  made  some 
progress  in  this  country  ;  but  there  is  no  mention  of 
persons,  or  of  distinct  publications,  except  for  the 
purpose  of  mere  literary  criticism.  Doctrines  may 
be  examined   and   censured   with   perfect   freedom, 


PREFACE.  XXi 

without  seeking  to  cast  reproach  on  the  individuals 
who  entertain  them.  To  the  public,  the  sentiments 
which  are  published  may  be  of  great  interest,  while 
the  individual  is  nothing.  By  forgetting  this  simple 
rule,  a  discussion  of  great  general  interest  too  often 
degenerates  into  a  mere  personal  controversy.  I 
hope  the  following  Essays  will  be  found  free  from 
objection  in  this  respect,  though  other  and  serious 
faults  and  imperfections  will  be  discovered  in  them, 
of  which  no  one  can  be  more  sensible  than  the  wri- 
ter. He  covets  the  praise  only  of  sincerity  and  good 
intentions. 

Boston,  May,  1842, 


CONTENTS. 


£S3AT  PaOE 

I.      LOCKE  AND  THE  TRANSCENDENTALISTS,          ...        1 
II.      KANT  AND   HIS   PHILOSOPHY, 33 

III.  FICHTE'S  EXPOSITION  OF  KANT  :  PHILOSOPHY  APPLIED 

TO   THEOLOGY, 66 

IV.  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OP  COUSIN, HI 

V.      PALEY  :   THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  A  GOD,        161 

VI.      SUBJECT  CONTINUED:    THE  UNION   OF  THEOLOGY  AND 

METAPHYSICS, 211 

VIL      BERKELEY  AND  HIS  PHILOSOPHY, 264 

VIII.      ELEMENTS  OF  MORAL  SCIENCE, 310 

[X.     POLITICAL  ETHICS, 331 


ESSAYS. 


I. 

LOCKE   AND   THE   TRANSCENDENTALISTS.* 

It  is  remarkable,  that  we  have  yet  no  well- written  biog- 
raphy of  Locke.  The  volumes  by  Lord  King  add  little  to 
our  knowledge  of  his  private  life  and  character.  They  are 
made  up  chiefly  of  the  sweepings  of  his  writing-desk, — 
fragments  of  a  correspondence,  which  he  maintained  with 
distinguished  literary  contemporaries,  and  imperfect  drafts 
and  abstracts  of  works,  which  were  either  subsequently 
published  in  a  completed  form,  or  were  left  by  a  change  of 
purpose,  or  a  want  of  time,  among  a  heap  of  unexecuted 
projects.  Yet  they  are  not  devoid  of  interest.  We  like  to 
be  admitted  to  the  workshop  of  genius,  and  by  inspection 
of  the  fragments  scattered  around,  to  gain  some  idea  of  the 
successive  steps  by  which  great  works  are  evolved.  Such 
disjecta  memhra  not  only  throw  light  on  the  history  of  the 
individual  mind,  but  afford  valuable  hints  to  the  general 
inquirer  into  the  phenomena  of  thought  and  opinion.  Ta- 
ken in  connexion  with  the  incidents  in  the  life  of  a  philoso- 
pher, they  show  the  reciprocal  workings  of  thought  and 
action,  and  afford  the  most  satisfactory  proof  of  the  sinceri- 
ty of  published  opinions.     They  are  rendered  interesting 


*  From  the  Christian  Examiner  for  November,  1837. 
1 


Ji  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

from  the  previously  acquired  reputation  of  tiie  writer,  and 
instructive  from  the  insight  they  afford  into  the  means  by 
which  that  reputation  was  acquired. 

But  the  character  of  Locke  hardly  needed  the  illustration 
to  be  obtained  from  such  sources  as  these.  It  is  apparent 
on  the  very  face  of  his  larger  works,  and  we  rise  from  the 
perusal  of  them  with  much  the  same  feelings,  as  those  ex- 
cited by  conversation  with  an  old  and  valued  friend.  He 
never  puts  on  the  airs  of  an  author  professedly  dictating 
sentences  for  the  public  ;  but  his  thoughts  flow  from  him 
with  the  same  ease,  simplicity,  and  not  unfrequently  the 
same  vivacity,  which  we  expect  in  the  most  unstudied  table- 
talk.  Part  of  the  effect  produced  on  the  reader  is  undoubt- 
edly to  be  ascribed  to  the  character  of  the  style,  which  is 
always  clear,  homely,  and  repethional  ;  but  more  is  to  be 
attributed  to  the  writer's  peculiar  turn  of  mind,  and  his 
entire  freedom  from  any  desire  for  effect.  Though  some- 
what positive  in  the  statement  of  opinions,  and  pertinacious 
in  their  support,  he  never  puts  on  the  robes  and  declares 
his  sentiments  in  the  tone  of  a  dogmatist.  Hence,  some 
peculiarities,  which  detract  from  the  merit  of  his  writings, 
enhance  our  admiration  of  his  character  as  a  man.  Trite 
and  puerile  remarks  are  mingled  with  the  most  profound 
and  sagacious  observations,  and  the  expression  is  as  homely 
in  the  latter  case,  as  in  the  former.  His  style  is  never  or- 
namented but  by  accident,  nor  terse  but  from  the  nature  of 
the  argument.  He  uses  perfect  good  faith  with  the  reader, 
never  attempting  to  hide  the  frivolity  of  an  idea  by  a  pomp- 
ous enunciation,  or  to  cover  his  retreat  from  a  difficulty  in 
the  argument,  by  raising  a  mist  of  words.  Though  an 
acute  reasoner,  he  avoids  the  common  error  of  logicians, 
who  regard  as  incontrovertible  truths  those  assertions, 
which,  in  the  set  forms  of  their  art,  they  are  unable  to  dis- 
prove.    His  strong  good  sense  breaks  away  from  the  tram- 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  S 

mels  of  system,  and  cuts  the   Gordian  knot,  which  his  dia- 
lectical skill  cannot  untie. 

His  intellect  was  distinguished  rather  for  originality  than 
depth.     He  threw  a  new  light  upon  speculative  philosophy, 
not  by  gaining  a  deeper  insight  into  the  questions  of  which 
it  is  composed,  but  by   contemplating  them  from  a  new 
point  of  view.     Thus  his  method   in   philosophy   was  like 
that  of  a  great  commander  in  war,  whose   opponents  con- 
sole themselves  under  defeat,  by  the  reflection  that  they 
have  been  beaten  contrary  to  the  rules.     Grant  the  exclu- 
sive propriety  of  their  system,  and  they  ought  to  have  con- 
quered. And  in  what  did  this  originality  consist  ?  Not  in  the 
love  of  paradox,  which  he   cautiously  and  even  conscien- 
tiously avoided.   Not  in  keeping  away  from  positions,  which 
another  had  occupied  before  him.     His  mind  was  of  that 
generous  cast,  which  welcomed  truth  wherever  it  was  to  be 
found.     He  considered  the  triteness  of  a  remark  rather  as 
evidence  of  its  truth,  than  as  an  argument  against  its  repeti- 
tion. But  the  novelty  of  his  method  consisted  in  treating  the 
gravest  and  most  abstract  questions  of  philosophy  with  the 
same  homeliness  and  perspicuity  of  manner,  that  one  adopts 
in  the  discussion  of  the  ordinary  topics  of  every-day  life.  He 
examines  man's  claim  to  immortality,  and  the  evidence  for 
the  being  of  a  God,  with  as  little  effort  after  fine  language, 
as  a  lawyer  would  make  in  settling  the  title  deeds  of  an 
estate.    Such  a  procedure  aids  not  only  the  comprehension, 
but  the  solution,  of  metaphysical  doubts.    Difficulties  vanish 
as  language  becomes  less  technical  and  involved.     Such  at 
least  is  the  case,  with  subjects  which  the  mind  can  effectu- 
ally grasp.      On  the  other  hand,  when  the   faculties  are 
tasked  for  purposes,  to  which  they  are   entirely  incompe- 
tent, simplicity  of  manner  exposes  the  failure,  which  pomp- 
ous technicality  only  veils.     The  errors  of  Locke's  system 
lie  upon  the   surface,  and  he  must  be  a  tyro  indeed,  who 


4  LOCKE   AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

cannot  detect  them.  But  it  is  easier  to  criticise  than  to 
amend. 

Hence  the  opinion,  which  seems  to  be  gaining  ground  of 
late,  that  the  author  of  the  "  Essay  on  Human  Understand- 
ing "  was  a  clear  but  shallow  reasoner.  Men  affect  to 
praise  the  soundness  of  his  judgment,  but  sneer  at  his  pre- 
tensions to  the  title  of  a  philosopher.  He  uses  arguments 
which  are  nothing  but  virtual  appeals  to  common  sense, 
and  these  are  alleged  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  character 
of  a  deep  thinker  and  sound  logician.  But  what  do  such 
charges  amount  to  ?  What  is  common  sense,  but  the  high- 
est philosophy  applied  to  the  usual  purposes  of  practical 
life  ?  And  what  is  philosophy,  but  common  sense  employ- 
ed in  abstract  investigations  ?  Genius  consists  in  the  bent 
of  the  faculties  towards  a  particular  pursuit,  and  may  as 
frequently  be  displayed  in  the  conduct  of  ordinary  business, 
as  in  the  prosecution  of  scientific  research.  It  works  with 
the  same  tools,  though  it  looks  to  a  different  end.  The  sa- 
gacity employed  in  detecting  minute  differences  of  charac- 
ter among  our  friends  is  akin  to  the  metaphysical  tact, 
which  distinguishes  between  neighboring  affections  of  mind, 
that  to  common  observers  appear  shaded  into  each  other  by 
imperceptible  gradations.  The  wit  which  sparkles  in  con- 
versation, often  astonishes  us,  when  applied  to  the  philoso- 
phy of  mind,  by  the  novelty  of  its  suggestions  and  its 
quickness  of  vision.  Each  of  these  faculties  is  productive 
of  good  in  its  lower  as  in  its  higher  avocations.  In  the 
former  it  is  more  practical,  in  the  latter  more  comprehen- 
sive. 

But  in  thus  asserting  the  equal  appositeness  of  a  plain 
style  and  simplicity  of  manner  to  philosophical  subjects,  we 
mean  more  than  simply  to  defend  Locke  from  the  charge 
of  a  want  of  vigor  and  depth.  What  is  alleged  against  him 
constitutes  his  peculiar  merit.  Whoever  rescues  any  branch 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TKANSCENDENTALISTS.  5 

of  literature  or  science  from  the  hands  of  a  sect,  and  by- 
divesting  it  of  the  jargon  in  which  their  pride  and  pedantry- 
had  involved  it,  lays  it  open  to  the  conn  prehension  and  use 
of  the  multitude,  does  as  much  for  the  interests  of  learning, 
as  those  who  have  most  distinguished  themselves  by  the 
originality-  of  their  views,  and  by  the  extent  to  which  they 
have  pushed  their  researches.  To  bring  down  philosophy 
from  its  high  places  is  to  enhance  its  real  dignity  by  adding 
to  its  usefulness.  This  service  was  performed  by  Locke. 
He  not  only  raised  more  from  the  field  in  which  he  labored 
than  his  predecessors  had  done,  but  he  improved  the  soil, 
and  increased  the  number  of  cultivators.  He  was  as  much 
the  father  of  modern  metaphysics,  as  Newton  was  of  astro- 
nomical science,  or  Adam  Smith  of  political  economy. 
Hume  borrowed  his  weapons  from  Locke,  and  from  the 
desire  of  refuting  the  skeptical  conclusions  of  the  former, 
arose  the  Scotch  and  German  schools,  the  opposite  poles  of 
modern  philosophy. 

Up  to  a  recent  period,  the  authority  of  Locke,  in  all  that 
related  to  style  of  thought  and  expression,  was  paramount 
among  English  philosophers.  None  adopted  his  doctrines 
to  their  full  extent.  His  lively  pupil,  Shaftesbury,  and 
others  impugned  them  as  soon  as  published.  Hume,  the 
French  school  of  Condillac  and  Condorcet,  received  such 
portions  as  they  found  would  form  convenient  premises  for 
their  own  preconceived  skeptical  conclusions.  Other  wri- 
ters followed  the  opposite  course ;  they  took  what  the  skep- 
tics left,  and  abandoned  what  their  opponents  had  adopted. 
Condillac  fastened  on  that  portion  of  Locke's  system,  which 
traces  the  origin  of  the  mind's  furniture  to  sensation  ;  Reid 
and  Stewart  on  the  other  part,  which  refers  the  source 
of  many  ideas  to  reflection.  Each  party  condemned  what 
they  did  not  find  convenient  for  their  own  purposes.  Both 
followed  the  manner  of  their  common  predecessor.  The 
1* 


b  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

same  simplicity  of  statement,  the  same  directness  of  argu- 
ment, equal  caution  in  the  use  of  figurative  terms,  and 
against  the  ambiguities  arising  from  the  nature  of  language, 
are  found  in  the  writings  of  all  to  whom  we  have  alluded. 
They  imitated  neither  the  eloquent  dreams  of  Plato,  nor  the 
mystical  refinements  of  Plato's  commentators.  The  mind 
was  to  them  a  subject  of  experiment  and  observation  ;  ex- 
perience was  their  guide,  and  they  followed  it,  with  caution 
indeed,  but  without  the  least  suspicion  that  it  was  a  blind 
guide,  and  that  its  proper  name  was  empiricism.  The  sub- 
tilties  and  abstruse  phraseology  of  the  schoolmen  were  held 
as  obsolete  as  their  speculations  in  physics,  and  a  follower 
of  Newton  would  have  reverted  to  the  system  of  Ptolemy, 
or  the  vortices  of  Descartes,  sooner  than  an  English  meta- 
physician, after  the  time  of  Locke,  would  have  babbled  in 
the  vain  jargon  of  the  middle  ages.  They  easily  adopted 
modes  of  thought  and  language,  which  fell  in  with  the  na- 
tional character,  and  their  philosophy  harmonized  with  their 
manners  and  habits  of  life. 

But  the  fashion  of  the  times  has  greatly  altered.  A 
change  has  come  over  the  spirit  of  speculation,  and  tricked 
out  its  former  plain  garb  in  quaint  devices  and  foreign 
fashions.  A  forced  marriage  has  been  effected  between 
poetry  and  philosophy,  the  latter  borrowing  from  the  former 
a  license  to  indulge  in  conceit  and  highly  figurative  expres- 
sion, and  giving  in  return  an  abstruse  and  didactic  form  to 
the  other's  imaginative  creations.  One  would  think,  that 
men  were  weary  of  common  sense  expressed  in  pure  Eng- 
lish, and,  from  the  mere  love  of  change,  were  striving 
after  what  is  uncommon  and  impure. 

Certain  it  is,  that  a  revolution  in  taste  and  opinion  is 
going  on  among  our  literary  men,  and  that  philosophical 
writing  is  assuming  a  phasis  entirely  new.  Its  former  char- 
acteristics are  decried,  or  at  least  designated  by  new  terms, 


LOCKE    AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  7 

that  imply  a  shade  of  reproach.  If  the  alteration  regard 
the  dress  more  than  the  substance,  if  the  transcendental 
philosophy  as  yet  be  a  manner  rather  than  a  creed,  still  the 
departures  from  the  old  method  are  real,  and  involve  im- 
portant consequences.  But  we  believe,  that  the  change  is 
more  sweeping  in  its  nature.  It  is  proposed,  not  to  alter 
and  enlarge,  but  to  construct  the  fabric  anew.  The  ques- 
tion does  not  concern  an  addition  to  our  former  stock  of 
knowledge,  but  relates  to  the  reality  and  value  of  all  previ- 
ous acquisitions.  It  becomes,  therefore,  a  matter  worthy  of 
all  inquiry,  whether  the  present  revolution  be,  like  that  ef- 
fected by  Lord  Bacon,  an  evidence  of  intellectual  progress, 
an  epoch  in  the  history  of  man,  or  whether  it  be  the  mere 
reaction  of  mind  pushed  too  far  to  one  extreme,  the  recoil 
of  systems  too  much  depreciated,  and  too  long  forgotten. 

We  take  this  matter  up  seriously,  but  in  a  tone  that  is 
fully  justified  by  the  pretensions  of  a  large  class  of  writers. 
They  would  fain  have  us  believe,  that  a  new  light  has 
dawned,  —  that  old  things  in  philosophy  have  passed  away, 
and  that  all  things  are  becoming  new.  As  yet,  they  are 
more  busy  in  tearing  down,  than  constructing  anew.  A 
sweeping  censure  is  put  on  all  that  has  been  accomplished, 
and  nothing  definite  is  offered  to  supply  its  place.  Now, 
we  are  no  bigots  to  antiquity ;  we  are  not  attached  to  the 
old  road,  simply  because  it  is  old,  but  because  it  is  the  best 
which  we  have  yet  found  to  travel  upon,  and  we  will  not 
diverge  upon  a  by-path,  that  leads  confessedly  through 
many  a  swamp  and  thicket,  until  fully  convinced,  that  we 
shall  thereby  reach  our  journey's  end  the  sooner. 

The  arrogant  tone  has  been  too  quickly  assumed,  for 
the  new  philosophy  wants  even  the  first  recommendation  to 
notice.  There  is  prima /acie  evidence  against  it."  It  is  ab- 
struse in  its  dogmas,  fantastic  in  its  dress,  and  foreign  in  its 
origin.     It  comes  from   Germany,  and  is  one  of  the  first 


8  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

fruits  of  a  diseased  admiration  of  every  thing  from  that 
source,  which  has  been  rapidly  gaining  ground  of  late,  till 
in  many  individuals  it  amounts  to  sheer  midsummer  mad- 
ness. In  the  literary  history  of  the  last  half  century,  there 
is  nothing  more  striking  to  be  recorded,  than  the  various 
exhibitions  of  this  German  mania.  It  is  curious  to  watch 
the  developments  of  the  passion  through  all  the  modes,  in 
which  the  human  mind  exerts  its  powers.  Poetry,  theology, 
philosophy, —  all  have  been  infected.  We  believe,  that  there 
are  more  English  translations  of  Faust  than  of  the  Iliad, 
and  that  most  of  them  have  been  published  within  the  last 
ten  years.  A  version  of  one  of  Schiller's  plays  has  a  bet- 
ter chance  of  finding  purchasers  and  readers,  than  an  origi- 
nal drama.  Sergeant  Talfourd's  success  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding.  We  have  no  wish  to  institute  a  parallel 
between  the  merits  of  the  dramatic  writers  of  the  two 
countries.  Perhaps  the  result  of  such  a  weighing  in  the 
balance  might  be  unfavorable  to  our  national  pride.  But 
our  present  reference  is  only  to  the  disposition  evinced  by 
our  literary  men  to  translate,  and  by  the  public,  to  purchase 
and  peruse. 

We  would  not  be  understood  to  decry  the  study  of  the 
language  and  fascinating  literature  of  Germany.  The 
characteristics  of  this  last  throw  great  light  on  the  mind  of 
the  remarkable  people  to  whom  it  belongs.  Its  extraordi- 
nary freshness  and  originality  are  more  consonant  with  the 
works  of  the  remotest  antiquity,  with  the  earliest  efforts  of 
the  Greeks,  for  instance,  than  with  the  worn  and  polished 
traits  of  modern  letters.  But  we  have  no  sympathy  with 
that  ill-regulated  admiration,  which  seeks  to  transplant 
German  roots  to  an  English  soil,  —  to  cultivate  a  hot-bed, 
where  plants  shall  be  forced  till  they  lose  their  native  char- 
acter. The  peculiarities  of  the  German  mind  are  too 
striking  to  grace  any  other  people  than  themselves.     Imita- 


LOCKE    AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  \f 

tion  is  a  poor  business  at  all  times,  and  the  matter  is  not 
much  improved,  when,  from  long  familiarity  with  foreign 
models,  individuals  adopt  a  borrowed  cast  of  thought  and 
language  with  greater  ease  than  their  native  style. 

The  history  of  English  literature  is  full  of  instruction  on 
this  point.  Foreign  influence  has  ever  proved  its  bane. 
The  reign  of  Queen  Anne  was  signalized  by  the  triumph 
of  French  taste ;  the  authority  of  Boileau  among  the  Eng- 
lish wits  was  hardly  inferior  to  his  influence  at  the  court  of 
Versailles.  Yet  do  we  look  to  that  period,  or  to  the  EUza- 
bethan  age,  with  the  greatest  pride  ?  Was  Rowe  or  Ben 
Jonson  (we  will  not  drag  a  greater  name  into  such  a  com- 
parison) the  finer  genius  ?  Dryden's  example  should  have 
some  weight,  and  does  he  appear  to  greater  advantage  in 
his  rhyming  plays,  where  he  imitated  the  French,  or  in  his 
English  fables?  It  matters  not,  whether  the  Classical  or 
the  Romantic  school  be  the  object  of  imitation,  nor  does  the 
question  depend  on  the  comparative  merits  of  the  two. 
Schlegel  may  be  a  better  critic  than  Boileau  ;  Goethe  and 
Schiller  more  worthy  of  admiration  than  Racine  and  Vol- 
taire. But  to  us,  they  are  all  foreigners,  writing  in  a 
strange  tongue  for  another  people.  Peculiarities  of  national 
character  must  create  corresponding  varieties  of  literary 
expression  ;  in  this  way  only,  are  polite  letters  significant 
of  the  genius  of  the  people  among  whom  they  have  their 
birth.  Cosmopolitism,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  word, 
does  not  belong  to  the  external  forms  of  literature,  though 
it  may  to  the  spirit  and  substance.  Unluckily,  these  traits 
of  nationality  are  the  most  prominent  of  all  to  the  eyes  of 
a  foreigner.  They  are  the  salient  points  on  which  the 
copyist  fastens,  and  he  is  faithful  to  his  original  in  propor- 
tion as  he  departs  from  the  character  of  the  very  people, 
to  whom  his  writings  are  addressed. 

As  a  people,  the  Germans  are  remarkable  for  their  in- 


10  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCExNDENTALISTS. 

tense  national  feeling.  They  will  not  fight  under  any- 
other  than  a  Teutonic  banner.  The  attempt  of  Frederick 
of  Prussia,  to  introduce  among  them  a  French  manner  and 
French  taste,  failed  entirely.  They  carefully  weeded  from 
their  language  every  French  word  and  idiom,  which  the  in- 
fluence of  that  monarch  had  brought  in,  and  then  they  be- 
came more  German  than  ever.  True,  they  are  acquainted 
with  the  language  and  literature  of  every  nation  under  the 
sun.  But  they  have  a  strange  power  of  digesting  and  as- 
similating this  foreign  nutriment,  till  it  becomes  true  Ger- 
man flesh  and  blood.  They  naturalize  the  foreigners,  who 
will  entirely  renounce  their  former  manners  and  allegiance, 
but  they  never  become  naturalized  into  another  country 
themselves.  Yet  we  would  express  our  admiration  of  the 
Germans,  by  abandoning  the  very  peculiarity,  which  is  the 
secret  of  their  greatness !  We  would  fain  conjure  with  the 
magician's  wand  reversed. 

But  we  leave  what  is  merely  a  literary  question  for  more 
relevant  matter.  Some  speculations  in  theology,  that  have 
lately  appeared  in  our  neighborhood,  indicate  strongly  the 
place  of  their  birth.  We  do  not  allude  to  this  subject  by 
way  of  reproach,  but  simply  to  confirm  the  assertion  re- 
specting the  tendency  of  writers  at  present  to  seek  inspira- 
tion from  a  foreign  source.  The  country  where  the  Refor- 
mation had  its  birth,  holds  its  daring  spirit  of  speculation  in 
religious  matters.  The  church  of  England  has  been  asleep 
since  the  times  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  dignitaries  of  the 
Holy  Catholic  Church,  since  the  suppression  of  the  order 
of  Jesuits,  have  exerted  their  prescriptive  right  of  nodding 
in  their  stalls.  But  the  restless  activity  of  the  countrymen 
of  Luther,  besides  doing  every  thing  for  biblical  learning, 
has  broken  out  in  new  and  startling  views  of  the  origin, 
evidences,  and  nature  of  Christianity.  The  controversy 
between  the  upholders  of  Rationalism  and  Supernaturalism 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  11 

has  driven  one  party  to  the  verge  of  infidelity,  and  the  other 
to  the  extremes  of  fanaticism  and  bigotry.  The  middle 
ground  is  broken  up  in  the  heat  of  dispute,  and  the  moder- 
ate party  is  the  smallest.  And  this  battle  is  to  be  fought 
over  again  on  our  own  religious  soil.  Whether  its  results 
are  to  be  beneficial  or  injurious,  whether  the  impulse  re- 
ceived in  point  of  activity  and  the  disposition  to  inquire, 
will  outweigh  the  evils  of  extravagance  in  opinion  and  of 
heated  theological  contests,  is  no  question  for  us  to  deter- 
mine. We  look  only  to  the  indisputable  fact,  that  religious 
discussions  here  have  suddenly  received  a  turn,  that  mani- 
fests the  attention  paid  to  the  writings  of  foreign  theo- 
logians. 

The  religious  speculations  of  the  Germans  are  closely 
connected  with  their  philosophical  opinions,  if  indeed  they 
do  not  proceed  entirely  from  this  fountain.  And  this  con- 
sideration brings  us  back  to  the  main  subject  of  inquiry, 
the  influence  of  the  study  of  German  philosophy  on  our 
own  speculative  systems. 

The  history  of  modern  metaphysics  in  Germany  begins 
properly  with  the  publications  of  Kant.  The  writings  of 
his  predecessors,  Leibnitz,  Wolf,  and  others,  have  nothing 
distinctive  in  their  character  from  the  speculations  of  other 
philosophers.  But  Kant  created  a  nation  of  metaphysicians, 
by  constructing  a  system  in  which  the  peculiarities  of  the 
German  mind  are  strongly  marked.  The  study  of  philos- 
ophy henceforth  became  a  passion  with  his  countrymen, 
and  successive  systems  were  propounded  and  discussed  with 
a  degree  of  publicity  and  effect,  which  there  is  nothing 
to  equal  in  the  whole  history  of  speculation.  To  this 
cause  have  been  usually  attributed  the  great  boldness  and 
freedom  of  inquiry,  which  have  prevailed  in  Germany. 
Perhaps  the  reverse  of  this  hypothesis  is  the  truth.  Inde- 
pendence of  spirit  always  existed,  and  created  the  tendency 


12  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

to  philosophical  inquiries,  because  these  inquiries  first  af- 
forded an  open  field  for  its  manifestation.  The  sacred 
character  of  religious  subjects  infused  an  awe  into  all  who 
approached  them,  and  novelties  were  proposed  at  first  with 
reverence  and  hesitation.  Politics  were  forbidden  ground 
to  the  subjects  of  kings.  Physical  inquiries  required  a  ma- 
terial apparatus,  and  speculations  were  too  soon  and  too 
easily  decided  by  the  test  of  experiment.  But  the  territory 
of  metaphysics  was  boundless,  and  the  inquirer  might  range 
at  will,  with  no  other  check  to  his  imagination  than  the  one 
created  by  the  imperfections  of  language,  and  the  necessity 
of  rendering  himself  intelligible  to  those  whom  no  difficul- 
ties at  first  sight  ever  appalled. 

Common  phraseology  broke  down  in  the  first  trial.  The 
usual  resources  of  language  failed  entirely  in  the  hands  of 
a  man  like  Kant,  the  very  personification  of  abstract  and 
subtile  thought.  He  therefore  created  a  philosophical  no- 
menclature of  his  own,  which,  in  its  original  or  a  modified 
form,  has  been  adopted  by  subsequent  writers.  How  far 
by  such  a  proceeding  he  increased  the  lucidness  of  state- 
ments, that  could  not  be  couched  in  ordinary  terms,  is  a 
matter  of  serious  question.  That  words  have  a  power  of 
reacting  upon  thought,  was  remarked  by  Bacon ;  and  this 
power  is  likely  to  exist  even  in  a  greater  degree  in  newly 
coined  terms,  whose  signification  is  not  fixed  by  use,  than 
in  those  of  established  authority  and  determinate  meaning. 
Novelty  of  expression  has  the  semblance  of  originality  of 
thought.  A  phrase  from  a  Latin  poet  may  appear  in  the 
original  to  convey  a  striking  and  profound  remark,  and  yet 
seem  utterly  trite  and  puerile  in  the  translation.  Most  of 
the  favorite  quotations  from  Horace,  when  considered  apart 
from  the  diction,  are  mere  common-places.  So  the  techni- 
calities of  the  logician  give  an  apparent  weight  to  common 
reasoning,  and  the  familiar  argument  is  not  recognised  in 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  13 

its  scholastic  garb.  How  far  Kant  imposed  upon  himself 
and  his  readers,  by  giving  old  opinions  in  a  new  dress,  re- 
mains to  be  determined,  when  a  competent  person  shall 
attempt  to  translate  his  doctrines  into  ordinary  philosophical 
language.  That,  in  the  mist  of  his  peculiar  phraseology,  he 
did  not  always  perceive  the  true  character  and  legitimate 
results  of  his  own  dogmas,  is  sufficiently  evident.  His 
avowed  object  in  writing  was  to  furnish  an  answer  to  the 
arguments  of  the  skeptic,  and  yet  his  assertion,  that  space 
and  time  exist  only  as  independent  and  original  forms  of 
thought,  and  have  no  objective  reality,  is  a  doctrine,  that, 
properly  carried  out,  leads  directly  to  the  deepest  gulf  of 
Pyrrhonism. 

Before  we  import  this  novel  terminology  into  our  own 
language,  two  questions  must  be  satisfactorily  determined. 
Has  its  use  in  Germany  materially  aided  the  progress  of 
speculative  science  ?  Does  the  greater  inflexibility  of  the 
English  tongue  admit  of  any  great  accession  to  its  vocabu- 
lary ;  for  all  practical  purposes,  might  not  philosophical 
discussions  among  us  as  well  be  carried  on  at  once  in  the 
Greek,  Latin,  or  German  languages,  as  in  a  sort  of  bastard 
English,  enriched  by  words  drawn  entirely  from  foreign 
sources  ?  The  expedient  that  has  been  devised,  of  using 
words  in  their  primitive,  etymological  sense,  as  well  as  in 
their  common  meaning,  is,  in  the  first  place,  partial  and  in- 
sufficient;  and,  secondly,  is  open  to  nearly  the  same  objec- 
tions that  apply  to  the  introduction  of  foreign  terms.  Take 
for  instance  the  words  inform  and  intuitive^  which  have 
been  recently  applied  in  this  twofold  fashion.  Is  not  a 
knowledge  of  Latin  as  necessary  to  ascertain  their  primi- 
tive meaning,  as  if  they  were  for  the  first  time  borrowed 
from  that  tongue  }  This  remark  would  not  obtain  with  the 
Saxon  compounds,  but  these  are  few  in  number,  and  in 
most  cases  their  common  signification  does  not  vary  from 
2 


14  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

that  indicated  by  the  composition.  Understanding  is  an 
exception,  and  this  word,  we  believe,  has  been  pressed  into 
the  service  in  its  etymological  sense. 

But  we  have  no  wish  to  discuss  a  mere  question  of  phi- 
lology. The  graver  matter  lies  behind,  and  concerns  the 
alleged  defects  of  our  language  considered  as  a  medium  for 
philosophical  discussion.  We  do  not  now  dispute  the  con- 
venience, but  the  necessity  of  enlarging  our  philosophical 
vocabulary.  In  the  material  sciences,  a  discovery  requires 
a  name.  Davy  was  obliged  to  invent  terms  for  the  metals, 
and  Cavendish  for  the  gases,  which  they  respectively  dis- 
covered. Even  in  moral  and  mental  science,  the  assign- 
ment of  a  new  faculty  to  the  mind  requires  the  creation  of 
a  peculiar  and  properly  significant  token.  But  speculations 
of  this  kind  do  not  often  increase  the  number  of  things,  but 
concern  the  reality,  modes,  and  relations  of  familiar  objects 
of  thought.  As  languages  vary  in  copiousness  and  flexibili- 
ty, they  afford  greater  or  less  means  of  expressing  these  re- 
lations with  conciseness  and  elegance.  What  one  language 
gives  by  a  word,  another  must  express  by  a  circumlocution. 
A  particle  in  Greek  may  convey  a  distinction,  which  a  sen- 
tence is  necessary  to  explain  in  English.  Moreover,  the 
various  uses  of  a  word  expose  an  inquirer  or  disputant  to 
error,  from  the  risk  of  applying  them  unawares  in  a  twofold 
signification.  If  the  two  meanings  are  nearly  allied,  the 
danger  is  proportionally  greater.  Yet  a  mistake  may  be 
avoided  by  proper  caution,  and  the  liability  to  err  would 
not  be  removed,  if  two  distinct  sounds  were  in  use,  to  ex- 
press the  difTerent  ideas.  It  would  hardly  be  diminished, 
for  the  danger  lies  in  confounding  the  thoughts,  and  not  the 
expressions.  The  necessity  of  increasing  the  number  of 
philosophical  terms  is  therefore  a  false  pretence.  At  the 
utmost,  the  question  is  one  for  the  rhetorician  to  decide  on 
grounds  of  mere  expediency.     That  a  philosophical  writer 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  15 

is  able  to  express  himself  with  greater  clearness,  brevity, 
and  force,  in  some  other  than  his  vernacular  tongue,  affords 
a  reason  perhaps  for  composing  in  that  other  language,  but 
does  not  excuse  him  for  contaminating  his  own  by  admix- 
ture of  words  of  foreign  derivation.  He  has  no  right  to 
fashion  out  of  his  mother  tongue  a  dialect  appropriate  to 
the  uses  of  his  peculiar  science.  Let  the  Transcendental- 
ists  write  in  German  at  once,  and  there  will  be  no  farther 
dispute  about  the  matter. 

The  innovations,  so  far  as  executed,  are  conceived  in 
the  worst  possible  taste.  The  license  assumed  by  Horace 
is  assumed  without  any  regard  to  the  limitations  of  the 
rule; 

"  si  forte  necesse  est 
Indiciis  monstrare  lecentibus  abdita  rerum 
Fingere  cinctutis  non  exaudita  Cethegis 
Continget,  dabiturque  licentia  svmpta  piidenter." 

The  analogy  of  the  English  language  is  entirely  forgotten 
both  in  the  mode  of  compounding  words,  and  in  the  use  of 
idiomatic  phrases.  Now,  whatever  apology  may  exist  for 
bringing  in  new  words,  we  humbly  conceive,  that  there  is 
none  for  the  introduction  of  foreign  idioms.  The  old  Eng- 
lish prose  writers  are  censured  for  their  latinized  phrases ; 
have  modern  authors  a  better  right  to  indulge  their  predi- 
lection for  German  ?  The  quaintness  in  this  way  imparted 
to  style  is  a  quality  of  doubtful  merit.  It  is  poor  wit,  to  put 
a  bad  joke  in  the  mouth  of  a  Frenchman,  that  its  effect 
may  be  heightened  by  the  broken  English.  And  the  la- 
bored attempt  to  be  grotesque  in  style,  by  a  mixture  of 
foreign  gibberish,  is  little  better.  "  It  is  affectations,  that 's 
the  humor  of  it."  But  to  hear  such  writings  praised  as 
mirrors  of  deep  thought,  and  containing  a  world  of  philo- 
sophical meaning,  is  too  great  an  infliction  for  any  common 
stock  of  patience. 


16  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

But  the  passion  for  German  metaphysics  is  likely  to  pro- 
duce greater  evils  than  the  mere  depravation  of  English 
style.  The  habit  of  poring  over  them  must  induce  an  un- 
healthy state  of  mind,  either  from  the  general  characteris- 
tics of  such  a  philosophical  manner,  or  from  the  positive 
tendency  of  the  doctrines  advanced.  We  have  no  taste  for 
the  sublimated  atheism  of  Fichte,  or  the  downright  panthe- 
ism of  Schelling.  Yet  there  are  men  familiar  with  the 
works  of  such  authors,  and  loud  in  their  praise,  who  are 
not  ashamed  to  charge  the  philosophy  of  Locke  with  a  sen- 
sualizing and  degrading  influence.  We  have  a  right  to 
speak  out  upon  this  point.  Among  these  men,  and  their 
number  is  rapidly  increasing,  the  name  of  Locke  has  be- 
come a  by-word  of  reproach.  Yet,  in  the  whole  circle  of 
English  philosophers  and  literary  men,  not  one  can  be 
found,  whose  writings  breathe  more  uniformly  the  spirit  of 
Christian  purity,  love,  and  truth.  The  champion  of  re- 
ligious toleration  in  an  intolerant  age,  the  mild  but  firm  de- 
fender of  his  philosophical  creed  when  rudely  assailed,  im- 
bued with  a  love  of  originality,  which  yet  never  betrayed 
him  into  paradox,  and  willing  to  accept  the  hurtful  charac- 
ter of  any  just  inference  from  his  opinions,  as  demon- 
strating the  unsoundness  of  the  doctrine  itself,  —  the  study 
of  his  works  cannot  but  impart  a  portion  of  the  healthy 
spirit,  in  which  they  were  written.  How  far  he  is  answer- 
able  for  the  skepticism  and  sensualizing  dogmas,  which  the 
French  philosophers  of  the  last  century  founded  on  a  par- 
tial view  of  his  system,  we  leave  to  others  to  determine. 
Two  things  are  certain  ;  that  the  view  thus  taken  was  in- 
complete, and  his  philosophy  considered  as  a  whole  affords 
no  ground  for  such  conclusions  ;  and  that  no  one  would 
have  regarded  the  opinions  of  Condillac  and  his  coadjutors 
and  followers  with  greater  detestation  than  Locke  himself. 
As  an  authority  for  this  favorable  judgment,  we  may  be  al- 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  17 

lowed  to  quote  a  passage  written  without  reference  to  any 
sect,  the  members  of  which  might  find  themselves  censured 
by  implication  in  the  praises  of  another. 

.  Alluding  to  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding, 
Mackintosh  observes,  that  "  few  books  have  contributed 
more  to  rectify  prejudice,  to  undermine  established  errors, 
to  diffuse  a  just  mode  of  thinking,  to  excite  a  fearless  spirit 
of  inquiry,  and  yet  to  contain  it  within  the  boundaries 
which  nature  has  prescribed  to  the  human  understanding. 
In  the  mental  and  moral  world,  which  scarcely  admits  of 
any  thing  which  can  be  called  discovery,  the  correction  of 
the  mental  habits  is  probably  the  greatest  service  which 
can  be  rendered  to  science.  In  this  respect,  the  merit  of 
Locke  is  unrivalled.  His  writings  have  diffused  throughout 
the  civilized  world  the  love  of  civil  liberty,  the  spirit  of 
toleration  and  charity  in  religious  differences,  the  disposition 
to  reject  whatever  is  obscure,  fantastic,  or  hypothetical  in 
speculation,  to  reduce  verbal  disputes  to  their  proper  value, 
to  abandon  problems  which  admit  of  no  solution,  to  distrust 
whatever  cannot  be  clearly  expressed,  to  render  theory  the 
simple  expression  of  facts,  and  to  prefer  those  studies  which 
most  directly  contribute  to  human  happiness."  *  Hinc  illcE 
lacrymce.  The  Transcendentalists  have  good  reason  to 
decry  the  tendency  of  Locke's  philosophical  writings. 

That  the  spirit  of  German  metaphysics  is,  in  almost 
every  particular,  the  opposite  of  that  which  is  here  por- 
trayed, is  an  assertion  which  could  be  safely  made  only  by 
one,  who  possessed  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  all  the 
writings  of  the  German  philosophers.  Without  making 
any  pretensions  to  such  extensive  knowledge,  we  may  still 
judge  the  tree  by  its  fruits,  and  assert,  that  the  study  of 
such  writings  tends  to  heat  the   imagination,  and  blind  the 

*  Edinburgh  Reviezo.     Vol.  xxxvi.  Art.  Stewart's  Dissertation. 
2* 


18  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

judgment ;  —  that  it  gives  a  dictatorial  tone  to  the  expression 
of  opinion,  and  a  harsh,  imperious,  and  sometimes  flippant 
manner  to  argumentative  discussion;  —  that  it  injures  the 
generous  and  catholic  spirit  of  speculative  philosophy,  by 
raising  up  a  sect  of  such  a  marked  and  distinctive  character, 
that  it  can  hold  no  fellowship  either  with  former  laborers  in 
the  cause,  or  with  those,  who,  at  the  present  time,  in  a 
different  line  of  inquiry,  are  aiming  at  the  same  general 
objects.  The  difference  in  the  mode  of  philosophizing 
between  the  old  and  new  schools  is  radical.  Either  one 
party  or  the  other  is  entirely  in  the  wrong.  To  come  over 
to  the  new  system,  we  must  read  our  former  lessons  back- 
wards, give  up  the  old  tests  of  correctness  and  sincerity, 
and  rely  no  longer  on  meek  and  gentle  features  without,  as 
indications  of  truth  and  goodness  dwelling  within. 

We  are  fully  aware,  that  it  is  dangerous  in  speculation 
to  appeal  to  the  practical  tendency  of  any  doctrine,  as 
evidence  for  or  against  its  soundness.  Men  are  inconsistent 
beings.  Their  actions  are  controlled  by  innumerable  causes 
distinct  from  the  direct  influence  of  their  speculative  no- 
tions. But  the  assailants  of  Locke's  philosophy  have  rested 
their  objections  to  it  mainly  on  this  ground,  and  have  in- 
vited a  comparison,  in  this  respect,  of  the  dogmas  and  modes 
of  reasoning  adopted  by  the  two  schools.  And  there  are 
reasons  at  the  present  day  for  paying  especial  regard  to 
the  immediate  influence  of  speculation  upon  conduct.  The 
defence  of  metaphysical  pursuits  consists  chiefly  in  the 
advantages  to  be  expected  from  them  in  disciplining  and 
developing  the  mental  and  moral  faculties.  We  may  not 
reasonably  look  for  great  discoveries  in  mental  science. 
Philosophers  do  much,  if  they  succeed  in  dispersing  the 
clouds,  which  their  own  eflx)rts  have  collected.  Such,  at 
least,  is  the  common  opinion.  And  if  metaphysicians  are 
to  come  from   their  studies  with  feelings  worn,  and  their 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTaLISTS.  19 

general  sympathies  with  humanity  diminished,  better  let 
them  at  once  burn  their  books  and  renounce  their  vocation. 
There  is  an  old  reproach,  that  "  no  stone  is  harder  than  the 
heart  of  a  thorough-bred  metaphysician,"  which  must  be 
wiped  off  entirely,  before  one  can  account  satisfactorily  to 
his  conscience,  for  engaging  in  the  science  of  abstruse 
learning. 

Whatever  course,  therefore,  tends  to  rive  the  philosophi- 
cal world  into  parties,  to  inflame  discussion  between  them 
beyond  all  discreet  bounds,  to  remove  the  objects  of  thought 
still  farther  from  the  common  pursuits  and  interests  of 
mankind,  is  so  far  positively  pernicious  and  wrong.  Let 
the  Transcendentalists  look  to  this  point.  Their  efforts 
hitherto  have  tended  to  undermine  the  only  foundation,  on 
which  they  could  safely  rest.  They  have  deepened  the 
gulf  between  speculative  and  practical  men,  and,  by  their 
innovations  in  language,  they  are  breaking  down  the  only 
bridge  that  spans  the  chasm.  Let  them  succeed  in  this 
end,  and  they  perish  by  isolation. 

The  insufferable  arrogance  of  the  new  school,  and  their 
anxiety  to  place  themselves  apart  from  the  mass  of  mankind, 
are  shown  in  the  very  plea,  by  which  all  objections  to  their 
philosophy  are  commonly  met ;  that  men  do  not  understand 
the  system,  which  they  presume  to  criticise.  True,  men 
do  not  usually  understand  what  is  intentionally  made  unin- 
telligible. It  is  of  the  perverseness  shown  by  this  wilful 
and  designed  obscurity,  that  we  complain.  Si  non  vis  in- 
telligi,  dehes  negligi.  There  is  more  point  than  truth  in 
the  saying  of  Coleridge,  that  we  cannot  understand  Plato's 
ignorance,  but  must  be  ignorant  of  his  understanding.  How 
far  is  such  a  remark  applicable  ?  Is  the  intellect  of  every 
author  so  much  superior  to  that  of  his  reader,  that  every 
want  of  understanding  betv/een  the  two  must  necessarily  be 
ascribed  to  the  latter .?     Do  not  cloudy  minds  sometimes 


20  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

belong  to  men  who  write  books,  as  well  as  to  those  who 
read  them  ?  Do  not  authors  now  and  then  indulge  in  wil- 
ful mystification  ?  The  plea  is  a  very  convenient  one,  but 
it  proves  nothing,  because  it  proves  too  much.  Jacob 
Boehme  might  have  used  it,  as  well  as  the  plainest  thinker 
that  ever  lived. 

The  assertion  has  been  so  frequently  repeated  of  late, 
and  always  with  such  a  self-complaqent  air  on  the  part  of 
the  utterer,  that  no  small  courage  is  now  required  for  a 
hearer  or  listener  to  confess  honestly,  that  he  does  not 
know  what  his  instructor  is  talking  about.  But  we  have 
less  hesitation  in  urging  an  objection,  which  has  come  to  be 
used  by  very  respectable  authority.  Fichte  is  not  remark- 
able for  clearness  of  thought  or  perspicuity  of  manner  ;  yet 
he  can  speak  out  on  this  subject  with  sufficient  plainness. 
*' As -to  the  charge  of  not  understanding  Kant,  I  do  not 
consider  that  as  implying  any  reproach  ;  for  I  hold,  —  and 
this  I  am  willing  to  repeat  as  often  as  it  may  be  required  of 
me,  —  I  hold  the  writings  of  that  philosopher  to  be  abso- 
lutely unintelligible  to  one,  who  does  not  know  beforehand 
what  they  contain."  On  this  principle,  of  course,  the 
writings  of  the  metaphysician  of  Konigsberg  were  as  well 
understood  a  century  before  his  birth,  as  they  are  at  the 
present  day. 

A  poor  spirit  of  exclusiveness  is  shown  in  this  desire  to 
wean  philosophy  from  objects  of  common  interest,  to  dimin- 
ish the  number  of  its  students,  and  give  them  the  appear- 
ance of  adepts  in  a  mystical  science.  Such  a  disposition 
has  actuated  more  than  one  sect  of  soi-disant  philosophers, 
as  the  following  vivid,  though  homely  portraiture  by  Locke 
may  testify. 

"  The  philosophers  of  old,  (the  disputing  and  wrangling  philos- 
ophers I  mean,  such  as  Lucian  wittingly  and  with  reason  taxes,) 
and  the  s(;hoolmen  since,  aiming  at  glory  and  esteem  for  their 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  21 

great  and  universal  knowledge,  found  this  a  good  expedient  to 
cover  their  ignorance  with  a  curious  and  inexplicable  web  of  per- 
plexed words,  and  procure  to  themselves  the  admiration  of  others 
by  unintelhgible  terms,  the  apter  to  produce  wonder,  because  they 
could  not  be  understood  ;  whilst  it  appears  in  all  history,  that  these 
profound  doctors  were  no  wiser  nor  more  useful  than  their  neigh- 
bors, and  brought  but  small  advantage  to  human  life,  or  the  socie- 
ties wherein  they  lived;  unless  the  coining  of  new  words,  where 
they  produced  no  new  things  to  apply  them  to,  or  the  perplexmg 
or  obscuring  the  signification  of  old  ones,  and  so  bringing  all  things 
into  question  and  dispute,  were  a  thing  profitable  to  the  life  of  man, 
or  worthy  commendation  and  reward." 

When  properly  understood,  metaphysical  studies  are 
closely  allied  to  other  human  pursuits,  for  they  concern  the 
dearest  and  highest  interests  of  our  being.  The  nature  of 
the  soul,  the  mode  in  which  its  powers  operate,  the  peculiar 
functions  of  each  faculty,  —  these  are  no  objects  to  be  in- 
vestigated in  the  manner  of  a  charlatan,  who  seeks  to  as- 
tound his  hearers  by  paradox,  or  bewilder  them  by  the  use 
of  incomprehensible  terms.  Real  elevation  of  purpose 
seeks  humility  of  manner. 

"  Wisdom  is  ofttimes  nearer  when  we  stoop, 
Than  when  we  soar." 

We  like  not  this  constant  flapping  of  wings,  —  this  contin- 
ued but  vain  effort  of  an  ungainly  bird  to  rise,  when  its  own 
gravity  fastens  it  to  the  earth. 

Owls  cannot  see  in  the  sunshine.  One  writer  talks  of 
the  revelations  to  be  made,  "  when  the  obscuring  daylight 
shall  have  withdrawn."  W^e  commend  him  to  the  remark 
of  Bacon  ;  "  this  same  truth  is  a  naked  and  open  daylight, 
that  does  not  show  the  masques,  and  mummeries,  and  tri- 
umphs of  the  world,  half  so  stately  and  daintily  as  candle- 
light. The  first  creature  of  God  in  the  works  of  the  days 
was  the  light  of  the  sense ;  the  last  was  the  light  of  reason  ; 


22  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

and  his  Sabbath  work,  ever  since,  is  the  illumination  of  his 
Spirit." 

We  have  spoken  warmly  of  the  Transcendental  mode  of 
thought  and  expression,  without  alluding  to  individuals,  in 
whose  writings  the  offensive  characteristics  are  displayed. 
It  would  be  an  invidious  task  to  point  to  publications  in  this 
vicinity,  for  illustration  of  what  has  been  advanced.  Be- 
sides, the  feeling  is  as  yet  an  under-current,  that  has  per- 
verted, without  completely  infecting,  the  tone  of  speculation 
on  many  subjects,  and  has  openly  manifested  itself  among 
us,  only  in  ephemeral  and  occasional  writings.  Coleridge 
and  Carlyle  have  been  the  leaders  of  the  sect  in  England, 
and  it  is  somewhat  remarkable,  that  the  popularity  of  each 
is  greater  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  than  it  is  at  home. 
We  are  proverbially  fond  of  notions,  and  this  surely  is  the 
most  fantastic  one  yet  imported.  People  are  amused  at  the 
novelty,  and  stare  at  its  grotesque  manifestations,  without 
regard  to  the  more  serious  aspects  in  which  the  subject  may 
be  viewed.  Farther  developments  may  rouse  indignation, 
by  leading  men  to  examine  the  extravagant  character  of 
the  results,  or  the  evil  may  work  its  own  cure,  by  its  ex- 
cess provoking  contempt. 

We  would  touch  reverently  upon  the  character  of  Cole- 
ridge. Any  mind  capable  of  appreciating  the  exquisite 
sensibility  displayed  in  his  poetry,  his  gorgeousness  of  im- 
ao-ination,  and  his  sympathy  with  all  the  works  of  creation, 
must  approach  with  awe  the  failings  of  the  man.  But  it 
does  not  happen  to  one  to  excel  in  all  things.  Coleridge 
was  born  much  more  for  poetry  than  philosophy.  Not  that 
the  rare  qualities  of  his  mind  were  unmeet  or  insufficient 
for  the  pursuit  of  wisdom,  through  any  avenue  by  which  it 
may  be  approached.  But  his  imagination  outgrew  and 
overwreathed  his  judgment,  as,  under  the  tropics,  an  enor- 
mous vine   covers,  with  the  rank  luxuriance  of  its  growth, 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  23 

the  tree  which  it  clasps.  He  saw  visions,  and  dreamed 
dreams  in  philosophy.  Though  he  often  arrived  at  brilliant 
and  novel  results,  he  could  not  trace,  in  a  way  satisfactory 
even  to  himself,  the  steps  of  his  progress ;  and  the  out- 
pourings of  his  mind  on  abstruse  subjects  resembled  the 
fancies  of  a  poet,  or  the  prophecies  of  a  seer,  more  than 
the  stable  and  definite  conclusions  of  well  regulated  inquiry. 
The  texture  of  his  mind  was  over  finely  wrought,  and  he 
lived  on  bodily  and  mental  food,  which  half  maddened  him. 
He  was  for  ever  haunted  with  the  dim  scheme  of  a  grand 
constructive  philosophy,  which,  during  his  lifetime,  he  hardly 
commenced,  and  which  he  would  not  have  completed,  had 
he  lived  to  the  age  of  Methuselah.  A  daring  innovator  in 
speculation,  he  was  an  obstinate  Conservative  in  politics. 
His  Toryism  was  excessive.  The  rotten  borough  system 
was  to  him  the  corner-stone  of  the  English  constitution, 
and  the  worn-out  articles  of  the  English  church  were  in 
every  point  the  perfection  of  doctrine,  the  alpha  and  omega 
of  Christianity.  The  system  of  Malthus  was  "  a  mon- 
strous, practical  lie,"  and  modern  political  economy  "  a 
solemn  humbug."  In  short,  he  was  Dr.  Johnson  in  poli- 
tics, Emanuel  Swedenborg  in  philosophy,  and  —  himself 
in  poetry. 

We  cannot  avoid  the  suspicion,  that  in  the  following  pas- 
sage he  had  indistinct  reference  to  himself.  "  Madness  is 
liot  simply  a  bodily  disease.  It  is  the  sleep  of  the  spirit 
with  certain  conditions  of  wakefulness  ;  that  is  to  say,  lucid 
intervals.  During  this  sleep  or  recession  of  the  spirit,  the 
lower  or  bestial  states  of  life  rise  up  into  action  and  promi- 
nence. It  is  an  awful  thing  to  be  eternally  tempted  by  the 
perverted  senses.  The  reason  may  resist,  —  it  does  resist, 
—  for  a  long  time  ;  but  too  often,  at  length,  it  yields  for  a 
moment,  and  the  man  is  mad  for  ever.  I  think  it  was 
Bishop  Butler,  who  said,  that  he  was  all  his  life  struggling 


24  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

against  the  devilish  suggestions  of  his  senses,  which  would 
have  maddened  him,  had  he  relaxed  the  stern  wakefulness 
of  his  reason  for  a  single  moment."  * 

To  a  mind  like  that  of  Coleridge,  the  study  of  German 
metaphysics  was  poison.  It  increased  his  appetite  for  the 
marvellous,  rendered  his  speculations  more  abstract,  crude, 
and  daring,  imparted  virulence  and  coarseness  to  his  re- 
plies to  opponents,  and  lessened  his  interest  in  the  common 
concerns  of  life.  To  his  countrymen,  he  was  an  able  in- 
terpreter of  the  writings  of  Kant,  Fichte,  and  Schelling. 
He  gilded  the  clouds  of  their  raising  with  the  warm  hues 
of  his  own  rich  imagination.  His  eloquence  recommended 
dogmatism,  and  while  men  sympathized  with  his  aspirations 
for  a  higher  and  a  nobler  philosophy,  they  forgot  to  examine 
his  premises,  and  yielded  assent  more  as  a  matter  of  feeling 
than  of  judgment.  We  cannot  argue  against  his  positions, 
for  they  do  not  rest  upon  argument.  Transcendental  rea- 
soning can  only  be  answered  by  a  Transcendentalist. 
There  is  nothing  tangible  for  a  common  person  to  strike  at; 
even  Don  Quixote  never  thought  of  contending  against  a 
cloud. 

The  admirers  of  Coleridge  have  been  singularly  injudi- 
cious in  the  praises,  which  they  have  heaped  upon  him. 
One  recommends  his  philosophical  writings  as  models  of 
English  prose,  when  we  may  safely  declare,  that,  for  the 
comprehension  of  a  considerable  portion  of  them,  a  fair 
knowledge  of  German  and  Greek  is  absolutely  indispensa- 
ble. Besides,  the  sentences  are  often  long  and  involved, 
the  construction  harsh,  and  the  choice  of  words  very  unfor- 
tunate. It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  his  style  is  re- 
markably unequal.  There  are  many  and  long  passages,  in 
which  he  shows  wonderful  command  over  the  riches  of  his 

*  Table-Talk,  Vol.  i.  p.  88.     Am.  ed. 


LOCKE   AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  25 

native  tongue,  and  expresses  striking  thoughts  in  concise, 
elevated,  and  nervous  language.  An  easy  and  perspicuous 
manner  was  always  beyond  his  reach.  His  faults  are  those 
of  negligence  and  rapidity,  and  many  of  them  arise  from 
over  fondness  for  abstruse  expressions,  and  an  unwillingness 
to  incur  the  labor  of  translating  the  philosophical  terms  of 
one  nation  into  those  of  another. 

Again,  he  has  been  commended  for  perfect  amiableness 
of  disposition,  quietude  under  suffering,  and  meekness  when 
reproachfully  assailed.  After  some  study  of  his  prose 
writings,  we  are  entirely  at  a  loss  how  to  ascertain  the 
grounds  on  which  this  opinion  rests.  His  temper  appears 
querulous  in  the  extreme.  No  one  was  ever  more  fortunate 
in  obtaining  disinterested  admirers  and  assistants ;  witness 
the  Wedgwoods,  and  the  kind  surgeon  in  whose  dwelling  he 
passed  the  later  portion  of  his  life.  Yet  he  was  eternally 
complaining  of  the  ingratitude  of  his  friends  and  the 
malice  of  his  enemies.  We  have  no  wish  to  allude  to  the 
state  of  his  domestic  relations.  Our  concern  is  only  with 
those  features  of  his  character,  that  are  apparent  in  his 
writings,  and  which  may  help  to  show  the  probable  influ- 
ence of  his  works  on  those  who  are  most  fond  of  studying 
them.  His  ill-will  occasionally  breaks  out  into  coarseness 
of  language,  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  match  in  the 
vilest  pages  of  literary  controversy. 

This  is  plain  speaking,  and  we  feel  bound  to  support  the 
charge.  Take  the  following  passage  from  the  "  Biographia 
Literaria,"  in  which  he  alludes  to  the  criticisms,  that  had 
appeared,  of  his  own  works  and  those  of  his  friends. 

"  Individuals  below  mediocrity,  not  less  in  natural  power  than 
acquired  knowledge  ;  nay,  bunglers  that  had  failed  in  the  lowest 
mechanic  crafts,  and  whose  presumption  is  in  due  proportion  to 
their  want  of  sense  and  sensibility  ;  men,  who,  being  first  scrib- 
blers from  idleness  and  ignorance,  next  become  libellers  from  envy 
3 


26  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

and  malevolence,  have  been  able  to  drive  a  successful  trade  in  the 
employment  of  booksellers,  nay,  have  raised  themselves  into  tem- 
porary name  and  reputation  with  the  public  at  large,  by  that  most 
powerful  of  all  adulation,  the  appeal  to  the  bad  and  malignant 
passions  of  mankind.  But  as  it  is  the  nature  of  scorn,  envy,  and 
all  malignant  propensities,  to  require  a  quick  change  of  objects, 
such  writers  are  sure,  sooner  or  later,  to  awake  from  their  dream 
of  vanity  to  disappointment  and  neglect,  with  embittered  and  en- 
venomed feelings.  Even  during  their  short-lived  success,  sen- 
sible, in  spite  of  themselves,  on  what  a  shifting  foundation  it  rest- 
ed, they  resent  the  mere  refusal  of  praise,  as  a  robbery,  and  at  the 
justest  censures  kindle  at  once  into  violent  and  undisciplined 
abuse ;  till  the  acute  disease  changing  into  chronical,  the  more 
deadly  as  the  less  violent,  they  become  the  fit  instruments  of  lit- 
erary detraction  and  moral  slander.  They  are  then  no  longer  to 
be  questioned  without  exposing  the  complainant  to  ridicule,  be- 
cause, forsooth,  they  are  anonymous  critics,  and  authorized  as 
'  synodical  individuals  '  to  speak  of  themselves  plurali  majesta- 
tico!''* 

The  "  ungentle  craft "  have  had  many  a  lecture  read  to 
them,  but  we  have  yet  seen  nothing  to  equal  the  fiery 
wrath  of  this  retort.  The  unconsciousness  of  the  writer  is 
admirable.  In  the  very  chapter  which  contains  this  pretty 
piece  of  denunciation,  may  be  found  the  following  remark. 
"  Indignation  at  literary  wrongs,  I  leave  to  men  born  under 
happier  stars.  /  cannot  afford  it^  A  single  sentence  will 
suffice  to  exemplify  his  mode  of  thinking  on  political  sub- 
jects. "  The  Roman  Catholic  Emancipation  Act,  —  carried 
in  the  violent,  and,  in  fact,  unprincipled  manner  it  was,  — 
was,  in  effect,  a  Surinam  toad ;  and  the  Reform  Bill,  the 
Dissenters'  admission  to  the  Universities,  and  the  attack  on 
the  Church,  are  so  many  toadlets,  one  after  another  de- 
taching themselves  from  their  parent  brute."  f 

No  great  sagacity  is  required  to  perceive  the  probable 

*  Biog.  Lit.  p.  30.  Am.  ed.  t  Table-Talk,  Vol.  ii.  p.  164. 


LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  27 

influence  of  the  writings  of  Coleridge.  Possessed  of  so 
marked  a  character,  and  by  no  means  popular  in  their 
nature,  the  admirers  of  them  would  necessarily  form  a  sect, 
and  their  admiration  of  their  teacher  be  expressed  in  no 
measured  terms.  They  would  adopt  the  harshness  of  his 
manner  towards  opponents,  imitate  his  enthusiastic  dreams, 
and  revel  in  the  richness  of  his  illustrations.  Impatient  of 
the  restraints  put  upon  their  researches  by  the  limited 
powers  of  the  human  mind,  they  would  indulge  in  highly 
wrought  and  abstruse  affirmations,  in  the  hope  that  these 
might  contain  the  elements  of  some  truth,  which  they  could 
not  fully  grasp  and  distinctly  enunciate.  Systematic  in- 
quiry would  be  abandoned  for  the  piecemeal  promulgation 
of  unconnected  facts  and  desultory  reasoning.  The  re- 
sults of  immethodical  research,  connected  by  no  chain  in 
the  mind  even  of  the  inquirer,  would  naturally  be  expressed 
in  short  essays  and  distinct  aphorisms.  Sanguine  in  their 
expectations,  the  possibility  of  weaving  such  materials  into 
a  new  and  satisfactory  scheme  of  philosophy  would  ever 
be  present  to  their  minds,  but  the  attempt  to  realize  such  a 
hope  would  constantly  be  postponed. 

But  the  most  pernicious  effect  of  the  prose  works  of 
Coleridge  must  be  ascribed  to  his  fanciful  and  poetic  mode 
of  expression.  The  imagery,  in  which  he  delighted  to 
clothe  his  mystic  speculations,  is  the  prominent  object  to 
the  observer,  who  often  adopts  as  a  truth  what  is  nothing 
but  an  ingenious  illustration.  The  appeal  is  made  to  pas- 
sion and  sentiment,  not  to  the  understanding ;  and  the  re- 
sult is  persuasion,  rather  than  conviction.  There  is  a  falla- 
cy in  such  a  proceeding,  which  deserves  to  be  constantly 
guarded  against.  Poetic  and  philosophical  truth  are  essen- 
tially distinct.  They  differ  in  kind.  The  former  relates  to 
propriety  in  the  manner  by  which  the  emotive  part  of  our 
nature  is  addressed,  and  does  not  aspire  to  accuracy  either 


28  LOCKE    AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

in  word  or  thought.  The  latter  respects  strict  conformity 
to  reality  and  fact ;  absolute  and  entire  correctness  is  its 
proper  test.  A  painting  may  be  true  to  nature,  when  the 
whole  composition  is  ideal,  and  no  archetype  is  to  be  found 
in  the  works  of  creation.  We  say,  that  Shakspeare  does 
not  violate  truth  in  his  most  imaginative  creations,  —  in  his 
Calibans  and  Ariels,  —  his  witches,  fairies,  and  ghosts. 
But  the  reference  is  to  the  keeping  of  the  portraiture,  to  its 
consistency  with  itself.  Philosophical  truth,  of  which  the 
subject  is  man  and  the  end  is  action,  is  the  exhibition  of 
things  as  they  are,  and  demands  the  utmost  severity  of  ex- 
pression. The  value  of  a  principle  consists  in  its  unity  and 
entireness.  An  error  in  part  vitiates  the  whole.  Algebraic 
simplicity  of  language  is  therefore  required  in  its  enuncia- 
tion. All  truths  are  linked  together  by  innumerable  rela- 
tions into  an  infinite  series,  the  complete  exhibition  of  which 
would   constitute   the  only  perfect   scheme  of  philosophy. 

All  hyperboles,  all  figures  of  speech,  are  therefore  wilful 
departures  from  the  only  true  road,  —  are  the  distorted, 
partial,  or  exaggerated  expression  of  a  principle,  giving  to 
it  false  relations,  whereby  its  proper  position  and  bearing 
cannot  be  ascertained.  The  inherent  difficulties  of  the 
rigid  method  of  philosophizing  do  not  form  the  only  objec- 
tion to  it  in  the  minds  of  most  inquirers.  Men  are  in  love 
with  the  opposite  mode  from  its  pleasant  vices.  "  Elo- 
quence, like  the  fair  sex,  has  too  prevailing  beauties  in  it  to 
sufl^er  itself  ever  to  be  spoken  against.  And  it  is  in  vain 
to  find  fault  with  those  arts  of  deceiving,  wherein  men  find 
pleasure  to  be  deceived." 

Undoubtedly,  the  artifices  of  rhetoric  have  their  place 
among  the  means  for  the  instruction  and  improvement  of 
mankind.  But  their  ofl^ice  is  in  the  enforcement  of  truth  as 
a  rule  of  conduct,  not  the  discovery  and  original  expression 
of  that  truth.    Pure  rays  of  light,  passing  a  medium  of  fog. 


LOCKE   AND   THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS.  29 

are  refracted  into  a  thousand  gorgeous  hues,  that  hold  the 
spectator  in  mingled  wonder  and  admiration.  Yet  the  cen- 
tre of  such  a  cloud  is  hardly  the  best  place  for  distinct  vis- 
ion, for  perceiving  things  as  they  are.  Objects  appear  en- 
larged, defects  are  hidden  in  the  wreaths  of  vapor,  and  the 
general  effect  is  grand  and  impressive.  But  there  is  a  sim- 
ple beauty  in  the  pure  sunshine  without,  in  the  clear  atmos- 
phere, and  the  sharp  outlines  of  surrounding  things,  which 
one  would  hardly  barter,  after  all,  for  the  most  striking  illu- 
sion. This  may  appear  too  strong  for  an  illustration,  yet 
the  heated  and  bewildering  effect  of  the  most  brilliant  pas- 
sages of  Transcendental  writing  goes  far  to  justify  the  com- 
parison. A  sweeping  statement  is  made,  which,  in  the  ob- 
vious and  literal  sense  of  the  words,  is  a  wild  paradox,  but 
in  which  every  one  fancies,  that  he  can  perceive  the  ele- 
ments of  some  truth,  though  probably  no  two  interpreta- 
tions would  be  alike.  There  is  no  limit  to  the  number  of 
such  apophthegms,  except  in  the  poverty  or  richness  of  the 
writer's  fancy.  Where  positive  truth  is  not  the  object  of 
pursuit,  the  result  will  too  often  be  nothing  but  a  brilliant 
play  upon  words.  Splendid  generalizations  are  usually 
splendid  follies.  We  are  always  suspicious  of  an  (Edipus, 
who  professes  to  explain  the  secret  of  the  universe. 

A  fair  comparison  of  the  different  modes  of  inquiry  and 
instruction  adopted  by  Bacon  and  Locke  on  the  one  side, 
and  by  the  members  of  the  New  School  on  the  other,  must 
be  based  on  a  consideration  of  the  different  ends  in  view. 
"  In  a  historical,  plain  method,"  Locke  professes  to  "  con- 
sider the  discerning  faculties  of  a  man,  as  they  are  em- 
ployed about  the  objects  which  they  have  to  do  with,  and  to 
give  an  account  of  the  ways  whereby  our  understandings 
come  to  attain  those  notions  of  things  we  have."  Whatever 
may  be  thought  of  the  importance  of  this  object,  or  of  the 
success  with  which  he  pursued  it,  nothing  is  more  certain 
3* 


30  LOCKE   AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

than  that  he  rigidly  adhered  to  his  purpose.  His  book  was 
the  first  in  modern  times  to  give  an  ample  collection  of 
facts,  derived  from  observation,  relating  to  the  history  of 
the  human  mind,  and  forming  a  broad  basis,  on  which  to 
erect  a  system  of  experimental  philosophy.  He  was  di- 
rectly concerned  only  with  the  "discerning  faculties"; 
therefore  the  imagination  and  the  moral  powers  are  spoken 
of  only  incidentally,  and,  it  must  be  admitted,  with  frequent 
mistakes.  But  to  censure  this  omission  is  to  blame  Locke 
for  leaving  undone  what  he  never  proposed  to  accomplish. 
The  leading  proposition  of  his  first  book,  which,  owing  to 
his  inaccurate  and  unguarded  use  of  language,  has  been  so 
frequently  assailed,  is  still  one,  which,  couched  in  one  form 
or  another,  expressed  with  greater  or  less  caution,  no  phi- 
losopher since  his  time  has  ever  thought  of  denying. 
Those  who  question  the  possibility  of  experience,  who  deny 
the  reality  and  value  of  any  scheme  of  experimental  phi- 
losophy, certainly  will  not  accept  his  conclusions.  But  do 
not  let  them  assume  the  exclusive  propriety  of  their  own 
method,  and  then  censure  Locke  for  adopting  a  different 
course.  He  has  chosen  to  reason  from  observation  and 
facts  ;  they  from  "  anticipated  cognitions  a  priori^  He 
limited  his  task,  gave  up  the  consideration  of  problems 
which  he  believed  to  be  insoluble,  and  aimed  only  at  plain 
and  literal  truth.  Do  not  let  them  charge  his  philosophy 
with  a  sensualizing  and  degrading  influence,  merely  be- 
cause they  have  proposed  to  themselves  a  different  and,  it 
may  be,  a  higher  purpose.  The  results  of  his  inquiries  are 
expressed  in  a  plain  and  homely  garb,  while  they  have 
caused  poetry  and  eloquence  to  contribute  to  the  embellish- 
ment of  philosophy.  Before  they  arrogate  to  themselves 
the  superiority  in  this  respect,  let  them  consider  the  obser- 
vasion  of  Hume :  "  Nothing  is  more  dangerous  to  reason, 
than  the  flights  of  the  imagination,  and  nothing  has  been 


LOCKE   AND    THE    TKANSCENDENTALISTS.  31 

the  occasion  of  more  mistakes  among  philosophers.  Men 
of  bright  fancies  may  in  this  respect  be  compared  to  those 
angels,  whom  the  Scripture  represents  as  covering  their 
eyes  with  their  wings." 

Originality  has  become  the  cant  of  the  day,  —  the  magic 
sign,  whose  worshippers  would  fain  persuade  themselves  of 
the  worthlessness  of  every  thing,  save  that  which  is  too 
strange,  too  wild,  and  fantastical,  to  have  entered  human 
thought  before.  In  such  a  doctrine  as  this  we  have  no 
share.  There  is  that  in  Truth,  which  prevents  the  labors 
of  the  humblest  of  her  admirers  from  becoming  degrading 
or  useless  to  himself  or  mankind.  It  is  a  maxim,  which 
men  are  ever  ready  to  acknowledge  as  true,  but  never  to 
act  upon,  that  the  faithful  instructer  in  virtue  stands  as 
high  as  the  successful  searcher  after  truth.  He  who  lends 
one  incitement  to  the  cultivation  of  a  single  branch  of 
knowledge,  though  that  branch  be  as  old  as  the  creation, 
does  as  much  good  to  society,  as  much  honor  to  himself, 
as  if  he  had  been  the  author  of  any  novel  hypothesis,  that 
has  been  framed  since  the  time  of  Aristotle.  If  those  who 
are  most  enthusiastic  with  regard  to  the  progress  of  knowl- 
edge, would  have  their  own  dreams  realized,  they  must 
learn  to  place  a  higher  value  upon  humility  as  a  philo- 
sophical virtue.  There  are  mysteries  in  nature,  which  hu- 
man power  cannot  penetrate ;  there  are  problems  which 
the  philosopher  cannot  solve.  He  may  form  theories,  but 
his  theories  will  be  mere  dreams,  —  the  futile  attempts  of 
human  intellect  to  scan  the  designs  of  that  Being,  "  whose 
judgments  are  unsearchable,  and  His  ways  past  finding 
out."  Even  in  that  field  of  discovery,  which  is  open  to 
the  philosopher,  he  must  seek  to  gratify  his  thirst  for  further 
knowledge  only  by  persevering  labor  and  humble  trust. 
That  eager  self-confidence,  which  would  fain  grasp  at  con- 
clusions, without  first  examining  the  premises,  which  would 


32  LOCKE    AND    THE    TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 

reach  the  pinnacle  without  the  previous  toil  of  ascending 
the  steps,  must  be  restrained.  Truth  would  lose  its  proper 
estimation,  if  it  were  a  pearl  that  could  be  obtained  without 
price.  It  can  be  purchased  only  by  patient  observation,  by 
deep  and  thorough  reflection.  In  the  words  of  Bacon, 
"  Homo^  naturce  minister  et  inierpres^  tantum  facit  el  in- 
telligit^  quantum  de  natures  ordine  re  vel  mente  ohservavC' 
rit ;  nil  amplius  scit  aut  potest.'''' 


KANT    AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


11. 

KANT   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY* 

We  cannot  believe,  that  it  is  possible  to  translate  the 
writings  of  Kant,  in  a  way  that  will  make  them  intelligible 
to  the  English  reader,  however  conversant  he  may  be  with 
ordinary  metaphysical  speculations,  and  little  apt  to  be  dis- 
couraged by  the  first  sight  of  abstruse  doctrine  and  uncouth 
phraseology.  A  compend,  or  general  exposition  of  his  sys- 
tem, may  be  attempted  with  some  chance  of  success  ;  but 
a  literal  version  would  probably  be  ten  times  more  enig- 
matical than  the  original.  The  fact  is,  that  Kant  needs  to 
be  translated  before  he  can  be  understood  by  the  vast  ma- 
jority of  his  own  countrymen  ;  and  though  the  eminent 
thinkers,  who  have  stooped  to  this  repulsive  task  in  Ger- 
many, have  succeeded  in  disentangling  the  main  points  of 
his  system,  and  presenting  to  the  popular  view  something 
like  a  connected  whole,  yet  in  the  subsidiary  portions,  the 
filling  up  of  the  theory,  a  comparison  of  their  respective 
works  displays  a  mass  of  various  and  irreconcilable  opin- 
ions. Kant  aspired  to  invent  a  new  science,  and  a  new 
nomenclature  for  it,  at  the  same  time.  Each  is  explicable 
only  through  the  other ;  and  the  student  is,  consequently, 
presented  at  the  outset  with  an  alternative  of  difficulties. 
The  system  can  be  comprehended  only  by  one  who  is  ac- 
quainted with  its  technical  vocabulary,  and  a  knowledge  of 

*  From  the  Korth  American  Reviejo,  for  July,  1839. 
Critick  of  Pure  Reason;  translated  from  the  Original  of  Immanuel 
Kant.   London :  William  Pickering.     1838.     Svo.     pp.  655. 


34  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

the  terms  employed  can  be  derived  only  from  a  previous 
familiarity  with  the  principal  doctrines  and  divisions  of  the 
theory  itself.  The  case,  therefore,  is  very  nearly  as  bad  as 
that  of  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  —  the  unknown  writing 
of  an  unknown  tongue. 

Other  obstacles  to  the  easy  comprehension  of  Kantian 
metaphysics  arise  from  defects  of  style,  and  the  writer's  in- 
ability, acknowledged  by  himself,  to  facilitate  the  study  of 
his  opinions  by  the  clearness  of  their  expression.  The 
rambling  and  involved  sentences,  running  on  from  page  to 
page,  and  stuffed  with  repetitions  and  parenthetical  matter, 
would  frighten  away  any  but  the  most  determined  student, 
at  the  very  threshold  of  his  endeavor.  Kant  was  an  acute 
logician,  a  systematic,  profound,  and  original  thinker ;  but 
his  power  of  argument  and  conception  wholly  outran  his 
command  over  the  resources  of  language,  and  he  was  re- 
duced to  the  use  of  words  as  symbols,  in  which  his  opinions 
were  rather  darkly  implied,  than  openly  enunciated.  The 
very  extent  of  his  innovations  in  the  vocabulary  of  science 
showed  his  inability  to  make  a  proper  use  of  the  ancient 
stores  of  his  native  tongue.  The  coining  of  new  terms  is 
the  unfailing  expedient  of  those,  who  cannot  make  a  right 
application  of  old  ones.  The  difficulties  thus  thrown  in  the 
student's  way,  are  still  further  enhanced  by  the  absolute 
dryness  of  the  speculations,  and  the  want  of  any  relief  from 
ingenious  illustrations,  or  excursions  into  the  flowery  regions 
of  eloquence  and  imagination.  His  genius  never  unbends. 
The  flowers,  with  which  other  philosophers  have  strewed 
the  path  of  their  inquiries,  were  either  beyond  his  reach,  or 
he  disdained  to  employ  them  ;  and  his  writings  accordingly 
appear  an  arid  waste  of  abstract  discussions,  from  which 
the  taste  instinctively  recoils.  Not  one  oasis  blooms,  not 
a  single  floweret  springs,  beside  the  path  of  the  traveller 
through  this  African  desert  of  metaphysics.   In  this  respect, 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  35 

how  unlike  the  rich  and  fervid  genius  of  Bacon,  whose  sol- 
emn and  weighty  teachings  derive  half  their  effect  from  the 
play  of  imagination  and  brilliancy  of  wit,  in  which  they  are 
enveloped ! 

Before  the  system  of  Kant  can  become  generally  known, 
or  rightly  appreciated,  out  of  the  small  circle  of  scholars, 
who,  in  France  and  Germany,  have  resolutely  grappled 
with  its  difficulties,  the  same  service  must  be  performed  for 
him,  which  the  generous  and  clear-headed  Dumont  afforded 
to  his  English  contemporary,  Bentham.  It  is  not  enough 
merely  to  translate ;  the  order  of  subjects  must  be  changed, 
the  course  of  argument  and  illustration  arranged  anew,  and 
the  whole  work  rewritten.  The  success  of  previous  at- 
tempts at  a  close  interpretation  has  not  been  such  as  to 
tempt  further  endeavor.  The  Latin  version  of  Born, 
though  executed  under  the  eye  of  Kant  himself,  is  not  half 
so  intelligible  as  the  original.  Indeed,  the  limited  vocabu- 
lary of  the  Latin  language  formed  an  insuperable  obstacle 
to  the  undertaking,  though  a  vigorous  attempt  was  made  to 
conquer  the  difficulty  by  the  introduction  of  barbarisms, 
that  would  have  made  "  Quintilian  stare  and  gasp."  Should 
another  scholar  meditate  a  version  into  one  of  the  ancient 
languages,  we  recommend  to  him  to  try  the  Greek,  feeling 
quite  confident,  that,  in  such  a  case,  he  will  at  least  equal 
in  perspicuity  some  of  the  renowned  fathers  of  Grecian 
philosophy.  Futile  as  was  this  attempt  to  give  universal 
reputation  to  the  writings  of  Kant  by  translating  them  into 
the  language  of  the  learned  world,  the  few  writers,  who,  in 
France  and  England,  have  endeavored  to  make  the  same 
works  known  in  their  vernacular  tongue,  have  met,  if  pos- 
sible, with  still  less  success.  In  the  latter  country,  indeed, 
little  has  been  tried,  and  nothing  effected.  Among  the 
countrymen  of  Locke,  Hume,  and  Reid,  the  taste  for  meta- 
physical speculations  has   gradually  died  out ;  while  they 


36  KANT   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

could  not  foster  a  philosophy  of  native  growth,  there  was 
little  chance  of  obtaining  favor  for  an  importation  from 
Germany.  Willich,  a  respectable  German  scholar,  pub- 
lished a  volume,  entitled  "  Elements  of  the  Critical  Philos- 
ophy "  ;  but  it  hardly  deserved  the  name  of  an  introduction 
to  these  elements.  A  few  pages  of  the  work  on  "  Pure 
Reason  "  are  literally  translated,  and  an  unsuccessful  effort 
is  made  to  explain  a  few  of  the  most  difficult  terms  in  the 
Kantian  vocabulary.  Wirgman,  in  some  essays  published 
in  the  "  Encyclopaedia  Londinensis,"  made  greater  preten- 
sions, but  supported  them  with  far  less  ability.  The  intro- 
ductory portion  of  the  "  Critique  "  is  rendered  into  English 
with  tolerable  fidelity  ;  but  the  original  matter  in  the  "  Es- 
says "  only  shows,  that  the  writer  was  a  weak  and  vain 
man,  wholly  unfitted  for  the  task  of  comment  and  exposi- 
tion. Before  printing  his  work,  he  submitted  it  to  Dugald 
Stewart,  with  the  amiable  intention  of  preventing  that  phi- 
losopher from  wasting  further  labor  on  his  inquiry  into  the 
faculties  of  the  human  mind,  after  he  had  been  entirely 
forestalled  by  his  German  rival.  When  the  Scottish  sage 
returned  the  manuscript,  with  a  coldly  polite  refusal  of  the 
proffered  assistance,  Wirgman,  as  if  eager  with  Dogberry 
to  write  himself  down  an  ass,  had  the  folly  to  publish  the 
correspondence.  His  lamentations  upon  such  blind  perver- 
sity on  the  part  of  Stewart  and  others  make  up  the  larger 
portion  of  the  trash,  with  which  he  has  enveloped  his  im- 
perfect and  jejune  translation. 

"  They  order  these  matters  better  in  France."  Of  all 
living  writers,  perhaps.  Cousin  is  best  qualified  for  the  task 
of  interpreting  and  making  available  to  common  minds  the 
dark  sayings  of  the  philosopher  of  Konigsberg.  His  thor- 
ough acquaintance  with  the  subject,  attested  by  a  copious 
infusion  of  Kantianism  into  his  own  philosophical  system, 
—  the  learning   and   general  ability,  with  which  he  has 


KANT   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  37 

reviewed  the  labors  of  others,  —  and  the  admirable  clear- 
ness of  his  style,  are  qualities,  that  would  insure  him  a 
great  measure  of  success  in  the  undertaking.  He  has  long 
since  promised  to  the  world  an  exposition  of  Kant,  and  we 
would  gladly  see  the  pledge  redeemed,  though  at  the  ex- 
pense of  sacrificing  some  of  the  fruits  of  his  original  spec- 
ulations. The  necessity  for  such  a  work  is  not  removed 
by  the  labors  of  some  of  his  countrymen,  who  have  pre- 
ceded him  in  the  same  field,  though  they  have  done  much 
to  elucidate  the  subject,  and  to  give  a  new  direction  to  their 
own  philosophical  inquiries.  The  publication  of  Villers  is 
the  most  important,  in  which,  giving  up  all  attempts  at  a 
literal  version,  he  goes  over  the  ground  in  his  own  way 
with  great  distinctness,  though  he  sometimes  unwittingly 
engrafts  his  own  opinions  upon  those  which  he  seeks  to 
interpret.  In  an  admirable  sketch,  published  in  the  "  Bio- 
graphie  Universelle,''^  Stapfer  has  given  a  lucid  and 
succinct  account  of  the  Kantian  system,  leaving  nothing 
to  be  desired  by  those,  who  wish  only  for  a  general  view  of 
its  scope  and  leading  peculiarities. 

Those,  who  think  the  difficulties  of  the  German  language 
are  the  only  obstacle  to  the  right  comprehension  of  Kant, 
may  satisfy  themselves  by  examining  the  volume,  of  which 
the  title  stands  at  the  head  of  our  article.  The  great  work, 
containing  the  whole  system  of  the  Critical  Philosophy,  is 
here  faithfully  translated,  sentence  for  sentence,  and,  —  as 
far  as  the  different  nature  of  the  two  languages  would  per- 
mit,—  word  for  word.  The  writer  of  it  has  thus  ably 
executed  the  only  task  that  he  proposed  to  himself.  The 
violations  of  English  idiom  are  frequent,  it  is  true,  but  no 
more  so  than  was  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  preserve 
the  strictness  of  the  original  plan.  And,  while  the  object 
was  merely  to  translate,  not  to  rewrite  and  interpret,  we 
are  not  sure,  but  that  the  wisest  course  was  to  follow  this 
4 


38  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

method  in  all  its  severity.  A  freer  version  might  give  false 
notions  of  the  original,  while  the  only  fault  of  the  present 
volume  must  be,  that,  for  the  most  part,  it  gives  no  no- 
tions at  all.  A  false  light  is  worse  than  utter  darkness. 
A  dreary  task  must  the  translator  have  had  of  it ;  though 
we  would  rather  engage  in  an  undertaking  like  his,  than 
in  that  of  the  student,  who,  without  further  aid  than 
this  work  affords,  should  attempt  to  master  the  thorny  sys- 
tem of  Kantian  metaphysics.  The  book  presents  a  more 
accurate  image  of  its  prototype,  than  it  would  do,  if  exe- 
cuted on  a  more  liberal  plan,  and  with  greater  attention  to 
rhetorical  embellishment.  The  English  style,  harsh,  awk- 
ward, and  involved  as  it  appears,  is  a  fair  picture  of  the 
original  diction ;  though  the  former  is  necessarily  the  more 
obscure,  because,  in  German,  far  more  frequently  than  in 
English,  the  composition  of  the  technical  terms  indicates 
the  precise  shade  of  meaning  attached  to  them.  We  have 
noticed  a  few  wrong  translations  ;  but  they  are  unimportant, 
and  do  not  lessen  the  credit  due  to  the  translator  for  having 
executed  a  most  repulsive  work  with  remarkable  care, 
patience,  and  fidelity. 

But  the  question  will  surely  be  asked,  Why  spend  so 
much  labor  on  the  interpretation  of  opinions,  which  the 
author  himself  has  not  cared,  or  has  not  been  able,  to  make 
intelligible,  and  of  which  no  practical  application  is  possi- 
ble }  What  hidden  wisdom  is  there  in  the  writings  of  Kant, 
to  extract  which  the  learned  world  must  toil  as  painfully, 
as  they  have  done  in  deciphering  the  hieroglyphics  of 
Egypt,  and  perhaps  to  as  little  purpose  ?  Why  not  leave 
his  system  in  that  obscurity,  in  which  his  uncouth  style  and 
barbarous  nomenclature  first  enveloped  it  ?  We  cannot  be 
satisfied  with  the  answer  of  the  men  who  maintain,  that  the 
diflSculties  of  this  metaphysical  theory  do  not  arise  from 
any  defects  in  the  exposition  of  it,  but  are  fairly  attributable 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  6V 

to  the  ignorance,  the   want  of  acuteness,  or  the   defective 
power  of  abstraction  of  those,  who  have  tried  in  vain  to 
comprehend  it.     The   reproach  is  an  infrequent  one  in  the 
history  of  the   higher  philosophy.      Why  have  not  other 
writers  on  the   same  subject  been  exposed  to  it  in  an  equal 
degree  ?     The  difficulty  of  reading  a  work  on  the  higher 
mathematics  is  a  different  thing,  for  we  know  precisely  in 
what  it  consists.     No  one  complains  of  the  obscurity  of  the 
'''- Mecanique  Celeste,''''  though  very  few  would  attempt  to 
peruse  it  in  its  primitive  form  with  much  chance  of  success. 
None  but  a  mathematician  of  very  respectable  attainments 
would  ever  dream  of  such  a  task.     It  is  well  known,  that 
La  Place,  addressing  himself  to  a  small  circle  of  scientific 
men,  wrote   with  the  conciseness,  which  the  comprehen- 
siveness of  his  subject  demanded,  and  that  the  difficulty  of 
understanding  his  work  proceeds  mainly  from  this  cause, 
and  may  be  in  great  part  removed  by  such  a  commentary 
as  that  furnished   by  our  distinguished  countryman.     But 
there  is  no  intrinsic  difficulty  in  the  subject  of  metaphysics, 
to  be  removed  only  by  a  regular  course  of  previous  training 
and  information.     Except  the   recent  German   metaphysi- 
cians, who  have  wilfully  "  walked  in  darkness  "  by  borrow- 
ing the  phraseology  of  Kant,  and  we  are  acquainted  with 
no  work  in  the  whole  round  of  the  science,  which  a  person 
of  ordinary  capacity  may  not   understand,  if  he  chooses. 
He  will  meet  with  many  abstract  and   wearisome   discus- 
sions, with  very  unattractive   reading;    but  with  little  or 
nothing,  that  cannot  easily  be   understood.     This  fact  is 
stated   in    the    most    unequivocal    terms    by   D'Alembert. 
"Every    thing   we    learn  from   a   good   book   on   mental 
science  is  only  a  sort  of  reminiscence  of  what  the  mind 
previously   knew.      Accordingly,  we   may  apply  to   good 
authors  in  this  department  what  has  been  said  of  those  who 
excel  in  the  art  of  writing ;    that,  in  reading  them,  every 


40  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

one  is  apt  to  imagine,  that  he  himself  could   have  written 
in  the  same  manner." 

We  are  not  sure,  that  the  obscurity  of  Kant's  writings 
has  not  been  one  great  cause  of  their  celebrity.  The 
oracular  utterances  of  the  sage  of  Konigsberg  were  eagerly 
caught  up  by  a  class  of  scholars,  very  numerous  in  Ger- 
many, whom  no  prospect  of  intellectual  toil  could  appal, 
while  their  vanity  was  gratified  by  forming  an  esoteric 
school  of  philosophy,  and  possessing  doctrines  incommuni- 
cable to  the  world  at  large.  No  country  was  ever  visited 
with  such  a  plethora  of  learned  industry.  When  the  stores 
of  ancient  erudition  were  exhausted,  and  the  Latin  and 
Greek  classics  would  be^r  no  further  commentary,  when 
Oriental  literature  was  thoroughly  elucidated,  and  no 
difficulty  in  the  Sanscrit  and  Japanese  languages  remained 
to  be  overcome,  the  crowd  of  philologists,  critics,  and  com- 
mentators pounced  with  eagerness  on  a  publication  in  their 
own  land,  which  promised  them  an  inexhaustible  field  of 
labor  for  all  time  to  come.  The  stores  of  transcendental 
wisdom  must  be  precious,  indeed,  when  so  many  difficul- 
ties obstructed  the  attainment  of  them.  Forthwith,  diction- 
aries, manuals,  refutations,  replies,  and  rejoinders  were 
multiplied  without  end.  The  number  and  loquacity  of  the 
initiated  daily  increased,  all  busily  employed,  and  jabbering 
in  a  dialect,  that  astounded  the  common  people,  while  it 
reduced  the  neophytes  wellnigh  to  despair.  A  good-sized 
library  might  now  be  formed  entirely  of  works  written  in 
Kantianese,  and  devoted  more  or  less  directly  to  comment- 
ing on  the  "  Critical  Philosophy." 

We  treat  this  matter  lightly,  though  fully  aware,  that  the 
extraordinary  influence  of  Kant's  writings  cannot  be  ex- 
plained from  the  single  cause  above  mentioned.  In  truth, 
through  all  the  defects  of  his  style  and  doctrine,  we  per- 
ceive the  workings  of  no  ordinary  mind.     Uniting  great 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  41 

learning  to  a  vigorous  and  comprehensive  intellect,  delight- 
ing in  the  boldest  and  most  original  speculations,  and  es- 
pecially distinguished  for  a  systematizing  spirit,  which  gave 
a  formal  unity  and  entireness  to  the  mass  of  his  opinions, 
he  stands  high  among  the  small  band  of  men,  whose  works 
have  given  a  new  impulse  and  direction  to  science,  and 
whose  lives  form  the  great  turning  points  in  the  history  of 
philosophy.  Fully  aware  of  the  greatness  of  his  proposed 
task  and  his  own  abilities,  he  put  forward  his  claims  with  a 
freedom  and  decision,  which  in  other  men  would  have  sa- 
vored of  arrogance,  but  in  him  marked  only  the  self-reli- 
ance of  genius.  Occupying  a  new  position  in  speculative' 
inquiry,  he  declared,  that  the  method  of  his  predecessors 
was  fundamentally  wrong,  that  their  conclusions  were  un- 
founded and  contradictory,  and  that  his  own  theory  was  not 
merely  the  only  safe,  but  the  only  possible  foundation  for 
all  future  systems  of  metaphysics.  To  adopt  his  own  lan- 
guage, "  all  metaphysicians  are  therefore  solemnly  and 
rightfully  suspended  from  office,  until  they  shall  have  satis- 
factorily answered  the  question,"  on  which,  in  his  opinion, 
the  possibility  of  their  science  depends.  His  own  great 
work  is  not  so  much  a  new  theory  of  the  science  itself,  as 
an  investigation  of  the  grounds  and  nature  of  the  problem 
proposed,  and  a  scrutiny  into  the  means  and  method  to  be 
adopted  for  its  solution.  All  minds  were  naturally  capti- 
vated by  the  boldness  of  pretension  in  these  proposals. 
They  felt  the  charms  of  a  system,  which  promised  to  con- 
fute dogmatism  on  the  one  hand,  and  rebuke  skepticism  on 
the  other,  and  to  rescue  the  highest  of  all  sciences  from  its 
previous  uncertainties,  waverings,  and  contradictions,  and 
provide  for  it  a  sure  method  of  future  progress.  The  cum- 
bersome apparatus,  and  the  consequent  tax  on  the  patience 
of  the  learners,  seemed  pardonable,  when  they  considered 
4# 


42  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

the  difficulty  of  the  problem  and  the  magnitude  of  the  end 
in  view. 

In  any  other  country  than  Germany,  the  work  would 
probably  have  fallen  still-born  from  the  press  ;  for  no  one 
would  have  had  the  courage  to  pierce  through  the  tough 
and  knotty  envelope  of  the  system,  to  ascertain  how  far  it 
redeemed  its  magnificent  promises.  Even  there,  it  was 
unnoticed  for  two  years  after  its  publication,  and  the  book- 
seller was  on  the  point  of  using  the  impression  for  waste 
paper,  when  the  attention  of  the  public  was  directed  toward 
it  by  some  articles  in  a  leading  journal,  and  the  edition  was 
eagerly  bought  up.  From  that  time,  its  influence  has  been 
wellnigh  unbounded.  Some  were  attached  to  it,  perhaps, 
from  the  very  labor  it  had  cost  them  to  comprehend  it,  and 
because  they  were  unwilling  to  confess,  even  to  themselves, 
that  they  had  lost  their  toil.  Others,  who  were  disgusted 
with  the  endless  doubts,  inconsistences,  and  retrocessions 
of  all  former  metaphysics,  were  attracted  to  this  system  by 
its  formal  and  technical  appearance  and  vast  pretensions, 
which  seemed  to  insure  for  the  object  of  their  pursuit  a 
reality  and  stable  foundation,  like  that  enjoyed  by  the  kin- 
dred sciences  of  logic  and  mathematics.  Kant  was  thor- 
oughly German  in  feeling  and  opinion,  and  his  works  were 
admirably  well  adapted  to  the  national  prejudices,  —  if  we 
may  call  them  such  without  offence,  —  and  to  the  tenden- 
cies of  the  times.  They  fell  in  with  the  current  of  thought 
that  marked  the  age,  and  their  influence  consequently  was 
not  confined  to  their  proper  subject,  but  covered  the  whole 
range  of  speculation,  —  not  more  apparent  in  metaphysics, 
than  in  morals,  taste,  and  literary  criticism.  The  nomen- 
clature was  widely  adopted,  and  the  spirit  of  the  "  Critical 
Philosophy  "  soon  colored  the  whole  web  of  German  litera- 
ture. And,  when  the  prodigious  literary  activity  of  the  na- 
tion began  to  attract  the  attention  of  foreigners,  and  the 


KANT   AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  43 

"  Chinese  wall,"  which  had  isolated  them  from  the  rest  of 
Europe,  was  broken  down,  the  phenomenon  of  this  man's 
extraordinary  power,  so  widely  manifested,  did  not  fail  to 
excite  curiosity  in  foreign  countries.  Madame  de  Stael,  in 
her  work,  that  may  be  said  almost  to  have  introduced  the 
German  literati  to  the  European  world,  devoted  several 
chapters  to  a  brilliant,  though  superficial,  consideration  of 
the  Kantian  philosophy.  Now  that  the  people  thus  recent- 
ly made  known  to  us  bid  fair  to  affect  French  and  English 
letters  more  widely  and  deeply  than  any  foreign  causes 
have  done  for  ages,  it  becomes  doubly  important  to  gain 
correct  notions  of  the  philosophical  theory,  which  is  in- 
grained in  their  thoughts  and  language. 

We  have  said,  that  much  of  the  popularity  of  this  system 
at  home  was  owing  to  its  consonancy  with  the  train  of  na- 
tional opinions.  We  do  not  allude  merely  to  the  aliment, 
which  its  operose  machinery  afforded  to  the  German  appe- 
tite for  toil.  It  was  the  state  of  religious  opinions,  with 
which  the  new  philosophy  harmonized  in  the  greatest  de- 
gree. More  than  fifty  years  ago,  religious  belief  was  dying 
out  as  rapidly  in  Germany  as  in  France.  Enthusiasm  of 
faith  had  passed  away  with  the  theological  wars,  to  which  it 
had  given  rise.  The  Encyclopaedists  made  converts  to  in- 
fidelity among  the  French,  and  Frederick  of  Prussia  sought 
to  extend  their  influence  to  his  countrymen.  He  failed, 
because  the  characters  of  the  two  nations  were  so  different, 
that  the  same  course  of  argument  and  the  same  scheme  of 
unbelief  were  not  fitted  for  both.  French  skepticism,  airy, 
shallow,  and  sensual,  was  not  suited  to  the  sobriety  and 
thoughtfulness  of  the  Germans.  Equally  or  more  prone 
than  their  neighbors  to  speculate  on  the  highest  topics, 
they  could  not  do  without  a  creed  of  some  kind,  but  they 
wished  for  one  of  their  own  construction,  —  not  dependent 
on  revelation  and  the  authority  of  Scripture,  but  worked 


44  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

out  by  their  own  minds,  —  curiously  complex  and  elabo- 
rately wrought,  —  mystical  in  expression,  though  skeptical 
in  tendency, —  and  more  a  subject  of  contemplation  and 
argument,  than  belief.  Their  skepticism  was  to  be  arrayed 
in  all  the  panoply  of  positive  doctrine,  —  to  be  an  elaborate 
scheme,  not  of  doubt,  but  of  absolute  denial, —  guarded  by 
all  the  resources  of  reasoning,  and  appealing  to  the  pride 
of  human  intellect,  with  all  the  pomp  of  demonstration  and 
certainty. 

Indeed,  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that  peculiarities  of  national 
character  are  often  more  apparent  in  philosophical  systems, 
than  even  in  miscellaneous  literature,  matters  of  taste, 
forms  of  government,  or  domestic  customs.  Speculative 
theories  result  from  the  aggregate  of  character,  and  embody 
the  whole  mind  of  the  people  among  whom  they  rise. 
From  the  extent  and  comparative  vagueness  of  the  subject, 
a  greater  scope  is  given  for  the  expression  of  peculiar  traits, 
which  may  appear  either  in  the  outward  garb,  the  exterior  ac- 
companiment, of  thought,  or  in  the  prevailing  tendency  of 
theories  towards  a  certain  point,  or  in  the  general  fashion 
and  arrangement  of  remark  and  argument.  It  is  not  that  hu- 
man nature,  the  great  object  of  the  study,  differs  in  various 
countries,  for  the  groimdwork,  of  course,  is  everywhere  the 
same.  But  it  takes  a  different  development,  has  various 
and  often  opposite  tendencies,  and  produces  very  dissimilar 
results.  We  understand  perfectly  what  is  meant  at  the 
present  day  by  the  French,  the  German,  and  the  English 
schools  of  philosophy  ;  for  no  translation  from  the  language 
of  one  into  that  of  another  can  be  so  perfect  as  to  obliterate 
all  marks  of  origin.  The  wine  will  still  have  a  tang  of  the 
cask.  There  is  a  vein  of  truth  in  the  quaint  saying,  which 
gives  to  the  English  the  dominion  of  the  sea,  to  the  French 
that  of  the  earth,  and  to  the  Germans  that  of  the  clouds 
and  the  air.     No  matter  whether  Leibnitz,  Kant,  or  Sehel- 


KANT   AND   HIS   PHILOSOPHY.  45 

ling  be  taken  as  the  representative  of  the  Teutonic  race  in 
speculation.  There  is  a  subtilty  and  over-refinement  of 
thought,  a  boldness  of  hypothesis,  an  excessive  display  of 
learning,  and  haziness  of  expression,  common  to  them  all. 
Equally  apparent  in  all  the  English  school,  in  Hobbes, 
Locke,  Hartley,  and  Reid,  are  plain  common  sense,  sturdy 
resistance  to  all  authority  in  matters  of  thought,  and  a  dis- 
position to  espouse  the  popular  belief,  and  to  reconcile 
speculation  with  practice.  France  boasts  of  two  great 
names,  whose  reputation  belongs  to  the  earlier  period  of 
her  scientific  history.  But  the  life  and  situation  of  Descar- 
tes and  Malebranche  were  in  many  respects  peculiar.  In- 
dividual influences  operated  upon  them,  to  a  great  extent,  to 
hide  the  qualities,  which  they  had  in  common  with  their 
countrymen.  The  remarkable  self-education  of  the  former, 
his  foreign  travel  and  various  experience  of  men,  and  the 
devotion  of  far  the  greater  part  of  his  life  to  physical  sci- 
ence, —  and  the  connexion  of  the  latter  with  the  priesthood, 
together  with  his  enthusiastic  religious  faith,  —  prevented 
either  from  manifesting,  in  any  great  degree,  the  bias  of 
national  thought.  Condillac  is  a  far  better  representative 
of  French  philosophy.  He  has  numerous  points  in  com- 
mon with  those  of  his  countrymen  and  successors,  whose 
philosophical  creed  differs  most  widely  from  his  own,  and 
whose  habits  of  thought  even  appear,  at  first  sight,  wholly 
unlike  those  of  the  great  master  of  the  Sensualist  school. 
Cousin  may  be  taken  as  an  eminent  instance.  He  is  an 
Eclectic  by  profession.  He  has  drunk  deep  at  all  foun- 
tains,—  Greek,  Scholastic,  German,  English,  —  mingling 
all  the  different  waters  for  a  single  draught.  Condillac,  on 
the  other  hand,  acknowledges  no  other  master  than  Locke, 
and  does  not  appear  to  have  studied  even  him  very  faithful- 
ly. But  he  is  not  a  more  thorough  Frenchman  than  the 
great  Eclectic.     He  does  not  bring  out  more  strongly,  more 


46 


KANT   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


vividly  the  national  character.  We  find  in  the  works  of 
each  the  same  transparency  of  diction  united  with  real  con- 
fusion of  thought,  the  same  dashing  and  brilliant,  though 
shallow  manner,  generalizations  equally  bold  and  sweeping, 
and  the  same  easy  and  confident  tone  of  expression. 

The  writings  of  Kant  gave  utterance  to  the  philosophical 
tendencies  of  his  country  and  age,  and  the  speculatists  who 
succeeded  him  owe  much  of  their  success  to  a  similar  adop- 
tion of  the  prevailing  sentiments  of  the  thinking  public  into 
their  respective  systems.  Under  the  guise  of  a  new  faith, 
they  created  a  philosophy  of  unbelief;  under  a  dogmatical 
mask,  they  proclaimed  what  was,  at  least  in  reference  to 
revelation,  a  theory  of  total  skepticism.  This  fact,  though 
commonly  admitted,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  opinions  of 
Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel,  is  denied  in  respect  to  the 
creator  of  the  Transcendental  philosophy.  But  the  denial 
only  shows  how  imperfectly,  out  of  the  limits  of  his  own 
country,  his  system  is  understood.  The  speculations  of 
Hume,  as  he  repeatedly  admits,  gave  the  first  hint  for  the 
formation  of  his  new  scheme  of  doctrine  ;  "  they  first  inter- 
rupted my  dogmatical  slumber,  and  gave  a  wholly  different 
direction  to  my  inquiries  in  the  field  of  speculative  philoso- 
phy." Though  commonly  understood  as  aiming  at  the 
refutation  of  his  predecessor,  he  extended,  in  fact,  the 
sphere  of  Hume's  skeptical  arguments,  generalizing  them 
so  far  that  they  covered  the  whole  field  of  knowledge. 

"  I  first  inquired,  whether  the  objection  of  Hume  might  not  be 
universal,  and  soon  found,  that  the  idea  of  the  connexion  between 
cause  and  effect  is  far  from  being  the  only  one  by  which  the  un- 
derstanding, a  priori,  thinks  of  the  union  of  things ;  but  rather,  that 
metaphysics  are  entirely  made  up  of  such  conceptions.  I  endeav- 
ored to  ascertain  their  number,  and  when,  guided  by  a  single 
principle,  I  had  succeeded  in  the  attempt,  I  proceeded  to  inquire 
into  the  objective  validity  of  these  ideas ;  for  I  was  now  more  than 
ever  convinced,  that  they  were  not  drawn  from  experience,  as 


KANT   AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  47 

Hume  had  supposed,  but  that  they  came  from  the  pure  under- 
standing." —  Prolegomena  zu  einer  jeden  kunftigen  Metaphysik. 
Vorrede,  p.  13. 

That  this  expansion  of  Hume's  principles,  though  con- 
ducted on  a  different  method,  leads  to  the  same  skeptical 
conclusions  that  he  deduced  from  them,  will  be  more  clear- 
ly seen  in  the  development  of  the  theory.  The  impression, 
that  it  led  to  very  different  results,  is  founded  on  the  arro- 
gant pretensions  of  the  new  school,  and  the  difficulty  of  an- 
alyzing the  system  far  enough  to  detect  its  real  character. 
The  name  of  Transcendentalism  seems  to  imply,  that  it  is 
the  scheme  of  a  higher  philosophy,  rising  above  the  objects 
of  sense,  and  over-leaping  the  narrow  limits  within  which 
the  exercise  of  our  faculties  had  formerly  been  confined ; 
when,  in  fact,  its  leading  doctrine  is,  that  our  knowledge  is 
necessarily  restricted  to  objects  within  the  domain  of  expe- 
rience, —  that  all  super-sensual  ideas  are  to  us  character- 
less and  devoid  of  meaning,  and  in  attempting  to  cognize 
them  the  reason  is  involved  in  endless  contradictions.  We 
do  not  state  this  fact  as  in  itself  a  reproach  upon  the  specu- 
lations of  Kant,  but  only  to  correct  the  unfounded  notions, 
which  most  persons  among  us  entertain,  of  their  character 
and  tendency.  All  innovations  in  the  theory  of  science,  all 
new  views  in  philosophy,  must  stand  or  fall  on  their  logi- 
cal and  intrinsic  merits.  There  may  be  a  presumption 
against  them  from  the  degrading  conception  which  they 
offer  of  human  nature  ;  but  this  is  insufficient  to  justify 
their  immediate  rejection.  Of  two  hypotheses,  the  more 
ennobling  is  not  necessarily  the  true  one,  and  too  great  ad- 
vantage is  given  to  the  skeptic,  by  a  hasty  preference 
awarded  to  it,  before  the  grounds  on  which  it  rests  are  sat- 
isfactorily determined.  Our  business  is  with  argument,  and 
not  with  declamation. 

We  obtam  a  clue  to  the  labyrinth  of  Kantian  metaphy- 


48  KANT   AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

sics,  as  soon  as  we  rightly  perceive  the  point  of  departure 
selected  for  the  system,  and  the  new  method  on  which  he 
resolved  to  prosecute  his  inquiries.  The  three  sciences, 
logic,  mathematics,  and  metaphysics,  distinguished  from 
others  by  their  purely  intellectual  origin  and  nature,  have 
advanced  with  very  unequal  success.  The  first  came  near- 
ly in  a  perfect  form  from  the  hands  of  its  inventor,  Aris- 
totle, subsequent  inquirers  having  done  little  but  to  pare  off 
its  redundancies  and  improve  the  modes  of  its  application. 
The  second,  rising  from  small  beginnings,  has  gone  stead- 
ily on,  every  step  being  one  of  progress,  till  it  now  covers 
an  immense  domain,  while  we  can  hardly  imagine  any 
bounds  to  its  future  advancement.  But  the  fate  of  the 
third  of  these  sciences  has  been  directly  the  reverse. 
Though  older  than  the  others,  it  has,  from  the  earliest  pe- 
riod of  its  history,  presented  little  more  than  an  arena  for 
endless  contests,  where  philosophers  might  exercise  their 
powers  in  mock  engagements,  but  where  no  one  could 
ever  gain  the  least  ground,  or  found  a  permanent  posses- 
sion upon  his  victory.  For  all  this  ill  success,  Kant  sup- 
posed that  the  method  of  inquiry  was  in  fault.  On  the  old 
plan,  it  was  presumed,  that  sensible  things,  outward  objects, 
were  known  to  us  in  all  their  relations  ;  —  that  the  nature 
of  mind  was  unknown,  and  must  be  studied  through  the 
effects  produced  within  it  by  impressions  from  without. 
Kant  reversed  this  process,  and  from  the  centre  of  the  mind 
itself  observed  the  action  of  our  cognitive  faculties  on  sur- 
rounding things.  He  looked  upon  the  outward  world  as 
modified  by  our  own  mental  constitution,  and  upon  the 
mind  as  projecting,  so  to  speak,  its  own  modes  of  being 
upon  the  external  creation.  "  It  sounds  strange  indeed,  at 
first,  but  it  is  not  the  less  certain,  when  I  say,  in  respect  to 
the  original  laws  of  the  understanding,  that  it  does  not  de- 
rive them  from  nature,  but  imposes  them  upon  nature." 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  49 

From  effecting  this  change  in  the  mode  of  inquiry,  he  com- 
pares himself  to  Copernicus,  who,  when  he  found  that  he 
could  not  explain  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  by 
supposing  the  firmament  to  turn  round  the  spectator,  tried 
the  opposite  supposition,  by  leaving  the  spectator  to  turn, 
and  the  stars  to  be  at  rest. 

The  obvious  consequence  of  this  hypothesis  is,  that  all 
our  knowledge  is  subjective,  —  that  we  can  never  know 
things  as  they  are,  but  only  as  they  appear  to  us  when 
viewed  through  a  false  and  deceptive  medium.  There  is  a 
deep  gulf  between  the  two  sciences  of  psychology  and  on- 
tology, and  no  human  efforts  can  bridge  over  the  chasm. 
Though  the  problem  which  Kant  proposes  should  be  solved, 
—  though  by  a  finer  analysis  we  should  separate  the  quali- 
ties really  belonging  to  an  object  from  those  superadded  by 
our  manner  of  looking  at  it,  —  still  we  could  never  imagine 
how  it  would  appear  to  us,  if  deprived  of  these  subjective 
elements.  Now  our  idea  of  truth  is,  the  conformity  of  our 
representations  with  their  archetypes  ;  and,  as  confidence 
in  our  perceptive  faculties  is  the  only  way  of  assuring  our- 
selves that  such  coincidence  exists,  the  theory  in  question  is 
certainly  based  on  the  most  comprehensive  skepticism.  It 
declares,  that  truth  is  not  only  unattained,  but  unattainable. 
It  assumes,  that  the  world  which  we  know,  is  a  web  spun 
by  our  own  fancies  on  few  and  thin  filaments  of  absolute 
being  ;  take  away  the  imaginary  warp,  and  the  texture 
cannot  hold  together.  The  world  of  things  in  themselves 
is  incognizable  and  inconceivable. 

" We  receive  but  what  we  give, 

And  in  our  life  alone  does  Nature  live, 

Ours  is  her  wedding  garment,  ours  her  shroud." 

By  a  full  survey  of  the   cognitive  faculty  of  man,  Kant 
sought   to    ascertain    the    number  and   character  of  those 
primitive  elements  of  thought,  which,  being  united  with,  or 
5 


50  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

imposed  upon,  the  impressions  received  from  sense,  consti- 
tute knowledge,  or  make  experience  possible.  In  this  way 
he  sought  to  finish  the  work  commenced  by  Locke,  —  to 
discover  the  grounds  and  origin  of  human  knowledge,  and 
thence  to  deduce  the  conditions  of  its  use,  and  to  determine 
its  extent  and  boundaries.  Perhaps  we  may  gain  more  ac- 
curate notions  of  the  execution  of  this  task,  by  going  back 
for  a  time  to  the  theory  of  his  predecessor. 

The  change  of  a  preposition  is  sufficient  to  reconcile  the 
leading  doctrine  of  Locke  with  the  opinions  of  those  phi- 
losophers, who  have  most  distinguished  themselves  by  the 
virulence  of  their  attacks  upon  his  system.  The  propo- 
sition, as  he  states  it,  that  all  our  knowledge  proceeds 
from  sensation  and  reflection,  as  it  implies  that  we  are  not 
to  go  behind  these  faculties  in  accounting  for  its  origin,  is 
faulty  in  itself,  and  at  variance  with  his  subsequent  asser- 
tions. Had  he  asserted,  that  all  truth  is  perceived  through 
these  faculties,  or  first  known  on  occasion  of  their  exercise, 
he  would  not  merely  have  avoided  misapprehensions  and 
unfounded  complaints,  but  have  stated  an  undeniable  fact, 
which  not  the  most  illiberal  of  his  opponents  could  ever 
dream  of  controverting.  The  two  worlds  of  matter  and 
mind  are  the  only  possible  objects  of  human  cognition. 
We  can  know  the  one  only  through  the  functions  of  sense, 
and  the  other  through  the  exercise  of  that  faculty,  —  call 
it  reflection,  consciousness,  or  what  you  please, —  by  which 
we  cognize  objects  of  pure  thought,  or  the  immaterial  cre- 
ation. 

But  if  we  merely  trace  a  given  idea  to  sensation  or  re- 
flection, we  leave  the  matter  short ;  we  have  not  fully  ac- 
counted for  its  origin.  An  impression  is  made  on  the 
senses,  and  a  perception  of  the  understanding  immediately 
follows.  Is  there  not  an  element  in  it,  which  is  purely  in- 
tellectual, and   as  such,  not  caused   by   the  action  on  the 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  51 

nerves,  though  this  action  may  mark  the  occasion,  on  which 
it  rises?  The  eye  gives  us  a  perception  of  distance, 
though  the  impression  on  the  optic  nerve  certainly  trans- 
mits to  the  mind  nothing  but  a  sensation  of  various  colors. 
The  judgment  immediately  adds  an  estimate  of  the  distance, 
at  which  the  visible  object  is  placed  ;  and  does  this,  from 
long  practice,  with  such  facility  and  quickness,  that  we 
confound  the  act  with  the  sensation,  and  imagine  that  we 
see  the  separation  of  bodies  in  space.  Thus  we  falsely 
attribute  to  the  sensation  more  knowledge  than  really  pro- 
ceeds from  it.  Still,  this  is  an  instance  not  of  original 
mental  action,  but  of  an  acquired  perception,  founded  on 
habit,  and  as  such  is  noticed  by  Locke,  as  perfectly  con- 
sistent with  his  hypothesis.  But  are  there  not  other  instan- 
ces, where  the  tendency  to  add  something  to  the  sensible 
impression  is  original,  instinctive,  and  acts  with  irresistible 
force  ;  and  where  the  addition  made,  or  the  subjective  ele- 
ment, as  the  Germans  call  it,  is  wholly  unlike  any  quality 
existing  in  the  outward  thing,  and  can  in  no  way  be  traced 
to  its  influence  ? 

To  answer  this  question,  we  take  an  example  most 
familiar  to  metaphysicians.  Two  events  happen  in  close 
connexion,  and  we  immediately  connect  them  by  the  sup- 
posed relation  of  cause  and  effect.  The  hand  is  held  near 
the  fire,  and  the  sensation  of  pain  follows.  Heat  is  ab- 
stracted from  water,  and  the  fluid  immediately  congeals. 
Certain  solid  substances  are  thrown  into  water,  and  they 
straightway  dissolve,  the  fluid  remaining  transparent  as 
ever;  other  substances  in  powder  are  thrown  in,  the  me- 
dium remains  turbid  for  a  time,  and  then  the  foreign  matter 
sinks  unchanged  to#the  bottom.  Now,  in  each  of  these 
cases,  we  immediately  and  necessarily  suppose,  that  the 
first  event  is  an  efficient  agent,  and  of  its  own  power  or 
force  produces  the  second.     But  the  senses  tell  us  nothing 


52  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

of  such  a  connexion.  They  only  inform  us  of  the  two  events 
themselves,  and  that  they  are  contiguous  in  place  and  time. 
Nor  can  the  judgment  be  attributed  to  reasoning,  or  a 
power  of  tracing  the  relations  between  ideas.  For  what 
resemblance  is  there  between  the  ideas  of  heat  and  pain, 
between  those  of  cold  and  solidity,  between  pounded  sugar 
and  transparency  in  water,  or  pounded  alabaster  and  insol- 
ubility ?  None  at  all.  Naturally  and  easily  as  we  make 
the  transition  now  from  one  of  these  related  ideas  to  the 
other,  had  we  no  previous  experience,  —  had  we  never 
seen  the  experiment  or  heard  of  its  being  tried,  —  we 
should  no  more  have  thought  of  connecting  the  two  notions, 
than  of  tracing  an  analogy  between  a  thing  a  yard  long 
and  one  that  is  red.     The  two  ideas  are  wholly  dissimilar. 

The  whole  matter  may  be  summed  up  as  follows ;  that, 
having  sensible  evidence  of  two  events  happening  in  direct 
succession,  we  immediately  connect  with  them  the  idea  of 
power,  or  efficient  agency.  Whence  comes  this  idea.'* 
Certainly  not  from  sensation.  We  do  not  perceive  the 
power  of  fire  to  melt  lead  or  consume  paper,  just  as  we 
perceive  its  light  and  the  flickering  of  its  flame,  merely  by 
looking  at  it.  We  perceive  the  fact,  indeed,  that  the  lead 
is  melted  and  the  paper  is  dissipated ;  but  the  supposition, 
that  the  fire  causes  this  result,  goes  beyond  the  perception, 
is  extraneous  to  it,  and,  so  far  as  the  senses  are  concerned, 
is  entirely  gratuitous.  Does  it  come  from  reflection  then  ? 
This  faculty  denotes  nothing  but  attention  to  the  subjects  of 
our  consciousness,  and  we  surely  are  not  conscious  of  the 
powers  of  material  things.  Consciousness  informs  us, 
indeed,  that  the  idea  exists  in  the  mind,  but  tells  us  nothing 
about  its  origin  ;  nor  can  we  trace  any.  intellectual  process, 
or  train  of  thought,  which  seems  to  end  in  giving  birth  to 
this  notion.  The  idea  of  power,  therefore,  is  a  fair  instance 
of  an  element  of  knowledge,  in  itself  universal  and  of 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  53 

primary  importance,  the  origin  of  which  cannot  be  ascribed 
either  to  external  or  internal  experience. 

Now,  this  instinctive  yoking  together  of  two  events  as 
cause  and  effect,  or  rather  the  universal  judgment  closely 
related  to  it,  "  that  every  thing  which  happens  must  have  a 
cause,"  is  termed,  in  the  elegant  language  of  Kant,  "  a 
synthetical  judgment  a  priori^  Propositions  are  called 
analytical  or  synthetical,  according  as  they  are  either 
m_erely  explanatory,  and  add  nothing  to  the  sum  of  our 
knowledge,  or  as  they  have  an  amplifying  effect,  and 
actually  enlarge  the  given  cognition.  In  other  words,  the 
predicate  of  an  analytical  judgment  affirms  .nothing  but 
what  was  already  contained  in  the  idea  of  the  subject.  This 
is  the  nature  of  a  complete  or  partial  definition.  Facts 
which  we  learn  from  experience  are  instances  of  syntheti- 
cal judgments,  the  predicate  going  beyond  the  subject,  and 
thus  making  a  positive  addition  to  our  stock  of  previous 
knowledge.  The  proposition  we  have  been  considering  at 
such  length  is  evidently  synthetical,  for  there  is  nothing  in 
the  very  conception  or  idea  of  one  event  to  create  a  neces- 
sity of  its  being  preceded  or  followed  by  another  of  a 
different  character.  It  is  also  called  a  judgment  a  priori^ 
because,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  not,  and  it  cannot  be,  derived 
from  experience.  Then  what  is  its  real  origin  }  How  do 
we  obtain  it  ?  This  is  Hume's  problem.  Make  the  ques- 
tion universal,  state  it  in  the  broadest  possible  form,  and  we 
have  the  great  problem  of  the  Transcendental  philosophy  ; 
"  How  are  synthetical  judgments  a  priori  possible  ?  "  The 
expression  is  not  remarkable  for  perspicuity,  but  the  mean- 
ing is  this ;  How  is  it,  that,  independent  of  experience,  we 
are  able  to  know  any  thing  with  absolute  certainty  ?  To 
the  consideration  of  this  question,  the  "  Critique  of  Pure 
Reason  "  is  exclusively  devoted. 

We  first  seek  for  a  criterion,  by  which  we  may  securely 
5* 


54  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

distinguish  a  priori  knowledge  from  that  which  is  founded 
on  experience.  Kant  finds  such  a  test  in  the  characteris- 
tics of  universality  and  strict  necessity,  neither  of  which 
can  be  attached  to  any  propositions  of  empirical  origin. 
Human  experience  is  never  complete, —  never  exhausts  the 
possible  variety  of  cases  ;  its  judgments,  therefore,  are 
never  universally  true  or  demonstratively  certain  ;  but, 
founded  on  an  inductive  process,  they  are  valid  so  far  as 
our  observation  has  extended.  The  contrary  is  always  pos- 
sible and  conceivable.  Not  so  with  all  the  propositions  of 
mathematics,  with  some  axioms  in  physics,  and  with  many 
other  truths,  that  are  implied  in  all  the  forms  of  speculative 
knowledge.  These  carry  their  own  evidence  along  with 
them,  the  denial  of  them  involving  a  contradiction  or  ab- 
surdity, and  no  case  being  supposable  where  absolute  and 
universal  certainty  would  fail  to  attend  them.  There- 
fore, they  are  not  derived  from  experience,  and  the  ques- 
tion recurs  with  regard  to  their  origin.  Whence  does  the 
mind  obtain  them  ? 

Kant  defies  the  world  to  give  any  other  answer  to  this 
query,  than  that  v/hich  we  have  already  stated  as  the  foun- 
dation of  his  system;  —  that  they  are  forms  of  the  mind 
itself,  —  the  colored  medium  through  which  we  look  out 
upon  the  universe  of  cognizable  things.  The  material 
world  is  deaf  and  dumb  to  such  truths.  The  mind  does 
not  derive  them  from  without,  but  from  its  own  stores,  and 
by  its  own  inborn  energy  imposes  them  as  necessary  and 
immutable  laws  upon  the  outward  universe.  Our  percep- 
tive faculties  have  a  peculiar  organization,  and  can  act  only 
within  well-defined  limhs.  Therefore  we  know  a  priori, 
that  the  information  received  through  the  senses  must  con- 
form to  this  organization,  and  receive  certain  changes  from 
the  passages,  through  which  it  is  transmitted.  In  what 
manner  objects  would  appear  to  beings  of  a  different  con- 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  5& 

stitution  and  nature  from  ourselves,  we  cannot  even  con- 
jecture. But  we  know  how  they  must  appear  to  us,  and 
therefore,  prior  to  experience,  we  can  determine  some  par- 
ticulars in  relation  to  them  with  absolute  certainty.  To  in- 
quire into  the  actual  constitution  of  things,  —  their  real 
nature,  as  distinct  from  the  appearances  which  they  assume 
to  us  or  to  different  orders  of  being,  —  is  a  hopeless  en- 
deavor. It  is  seeking  to  know,  without  using  the  only 
means  of  knowledge.  It  is  a  gross  error,  though  a  natural 
one,  to  consider  our  own  modes  of  knowing  as  the  modes 
of  being  inherent  in  outward  things  ;  to  give  objective 
validity  to  subjective  laws. 

The  theory  is  certainly  ingenious  and  plausible,  though  it 
rests  on  a  paradox.  Empirical  propositions,  to  which  we 
give  only  a  limited  comprehension  and  a  qualified  assent, 
are  not  controverted.  Universal  and  absolute  convictions, 
in  the  reference  which  we  instinctively  make  of  them,  are 
necessarily  false.  The  non-existence  of  qualities  is  infer- 
red from  our  inability  to  conceive  of  their  non-existence ; 
they  belong  only  to  the  mind,  because  we  cannot  even  im- 
agine their  annihilation  as  attributes  of  things  without  us. 
Without  questioning  the  reality  of  any  "  anticipated  " 
knowledge,  we  inquire  only  into  ihe  sufficiency  of  those 
criteria,  by  which  Kant  seeks  to  distinguish  it  from  truths 
empirically  known.  That  in  the  information  received 
through  the  action  of  the  perceptive  faculties  there  are 
some  elements,  which  are  necessary,  or  that  cannot  be  got 
rid  of,  is  a  fact  which  betrays  rather  the  limitation  of  our 
capacities,  than  the  existence  of  a  different  and  higher 
source  of  knowledge.  The  necessity  in  question  may  be 
only  of  a  negative  character,  and  then  the  truth  which  it 
characterizes  may  be  of  empirical  origin.  Some  objects 
can  be  known  only  under  certain  relations  ;  some  qualities 
cannot,  in  our  conceptions,  be  abstracted  from  the  substance 


56 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


in  which  they  inhere.  Enlarged  means  of  experience,  — 
the  possession  of  an  additional  sense,  for  instance,  —  might 
do  away  with  these  impossibilities.  The  necessary  charac- 
ter of  the  cognitions  in  such  case,  results  rather  from  the 
limitations  of  experience,  than  from  the  existence  of  a 
higher  faculty  of  knowing. 

But  without  insisting  on  the  insufficiency  of  these  tests, 
we  remark  farther  a  monstrous  gap  in  the  reasoning 
adopted  by  Kant.  From  the  necessary  and  universal  re- 
cognition of  an  object  or  quality,  he  infers,  that  it  cannot  be 
objectively  real.  Thus  he  assumes,  not  merely  that  expe- 
rience can  lead  us  only  to  contingent,  limited,  and  relative 
knowledge,  but  that  it  is  the  only  trustworthy  means  of 
cognition.  Whatever  is  known  a  priori,  on  his  system, 
must  be  illusive  ;  it  is  subjective,  or  derived  only  from  our 
own  modes  of  being  and  knowing,  though  always  falsely 
referred  to  things  as  they  exist.  In  this  way  it  is  main- 
tained, without  the  slightest  proof,  and  in  contradiction  to  an 
irresistible  impulse  of  belief,  that  there  is  no  harmony  be- 
tween our  laws  of  thought  and  the  real  constitution  of  ob- 
jects. The  consciousness  of  necessity,  which  accompanies 
certain  judgments,  is  held  to  prove  their  origin  a  priori; 
and  from  this  last  fact  is  inferred  their  entire  want  of  foun- 
dation in  the  absolute  nature  of  things.  We  may  admit 
the  justice  of  the  first  inference,  but  wholly  deny  that  of 
the  second,  which  would  be  more  properly  styled  a  mere 
conjecture.  For  the  whole  course  of  Kant's  arguments 
leads  to  the  conclusion,  that,  from  the  constitution  of  a 
something  in  our  conceptions,  we  are  not  entitled  to  form 
any  belief  respecting  the  constitution  of  that  something 
without  us.  Yet,  in  direct  opposition  to  this  canon,  from 
the  a  priori  origin  of  our  knowledge  of  a  quality,  he  de- 
duces the  non-existence  of  that  quality  in  the  outward 
world.     That  is,  he  admits  the  rule,  when  it  works  in  favor 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  5*7 

of  his  system,  but  repudiates  it,  when  it  makes  against  him. 
It  is  a  good  principle,  when  it  leads  to  skepticism ;  it  is 
invalid,  when  it  tends  to  restore  confidence  in  the  fidelity  of 
our  representative  ideas. 

Few  words  will  suffice  to  apply  these  principles  of  the 
Transcendental  philosophy  to  an  explanation  of  the  intel- 
lectual processes  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  It  is  ap- 
parent from  what  has  already  been  said,  that  each  cognitive 
faculty  has  two  functions  ;  —  the  one,  receptivity^  or  the 
power  of  receiving  impressions  from  without,  the  other 
spontaneity,  or  the  power  of  reacting  upon  and  modifying 
these  impressions.  The  first  of  these  faculties,  that  of 
sense  (^sinnlichkeit) ,  in  which  spontaneity  exists  in  the  low- 
est degree,  furnishes  intuitions,  —  the  rude  and  unformed 
matter  of  all  our  knowledge.  Two  intuitions,  those  of 
space  and  time,  are  found  to  possess  the  marks  of  univer- 
sality and  necessity,  and  therefore  have  an  a  priori  origin, 
and  no  objective  reality,  or  foundation  in  the  real  nature  of 
things.  Space  is  no  empirical  conception,  derived  from 
external  experience,  but  it  is  the  necessary  prerequisite,  or 
condition,  of  our  ability  to  imagine  any  thing  as  existing 
out  of  our  own  minds.  If  from  our  conception  of  a  m.ate- 
rial  substance,  we  abstract  every  thing  which  is  known  em- 
pirically, as  its  color,  hardness,  weight,  impenetrability, 
&c.,  still  the  space  remains,  which  the  body  had  occupied, 
as  somethinoj  that  cannot  be  left  out.  We  can  imagine  a 
void  space,  or  one  in  which  no  substance  is  to  be  found, 
but  we  can  form  no  idea  of  body  as  existing  otherwise  than 
in  space.  Again,  space  is  an  endless  magnitude,  no  limits 
to  it  being  conceivable ;  and  it  is  essentially  one,  for  though 
we  may  speak  of  different  spaces,  we  understand  thereby 
only  parts  of  one  and  the  same  all-comprehending  exten- 
sion. Similar  arguments  will  be  found  to  be  applicable  to 
our  idea  of  time.     On  the  subjective  character  of  these  two 


58  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

intuitions  depends  the  possibility  of  the  whole  science  of 
mathematics  ;  our  absolute  conviction  of  geometrical  truths 
resting  on  the  pure  representation  of  space,  while  arith- 
metic derives  its  certainty  from  the  "  anticipated  "  idea  of 
time. 

We  certainly  have  neither  time  nor  space  to  consider 
the  argument  more  particularly,  but  only  to  inquire,  how 
far  the  theory,  as  thus  explained,  tends  to  the  refutation 
of  skepticism.  To  the  first  bewildered  apprehensions  of 
the  student,  it  would  seem  to  be  difficult  to  frame  a  system, 
which  should  strike  more  effectually  at  the  foundations  of 
all  belief.  By  denying  the  reality  of  space,  "  the  great 
globe  itself,  with  all  that  it  inherit,"  passes  away  like  a 
dream.  By  asserting  that  time  does  not  exist  out  of  our 
own  fancies,  memory  appears  a  cheat,  existence  is  con- 
tracted to  a  point,  and  the  whole  history  of  experience  and 
events  is  rolled  up  like  the  morning  mist. 

"  Nothing  is  there  to  come,  and  nothing  past ; 
But  an  eternal  now  does  ever  last.'' 

To  assert,  that  these  laws  of  thought  have  a  subjective 
reality,  sufficient  for  our  purposes,  and  are  rightly  appli- 
cable to  the  phenomenal  world,  —  the  only  one  with  which 
we  are  acquainted  or  have  any  concern,  —  is  a  contemptible 
evasion.  The  most  audacious  skeptic  never  denied,  that 
we  believe  in  the  existence  of  matter  and  in  the  succession 
of  events  in  time,  or  that  this  belief  is  im*perative  and  neces- 
sary. At  the  same  time,  he  maintains  that  it  is  illusive, 
and  has  no  foundation  in  the  real  nature  of  things.  To  go 
farther  than  this,  would  be  the  part,  not  of  an  infidel,  but 
of  a  madman.  It  is  true,  that  Kant  professes  to  repudiate 
Berkleianism,  and  will  not  admit  that  his  own  system  leads 
to  any  similar  result.  He  maintains  the  existence  of  the 
outward  world,  though  he  denies  the  reality  of  that  which, 
by  his  own  principles,  can  alone   make  the  conception   of 


KANT   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  59 

such  existence  possible.  The  originality,  at  least,  of  a  sys- 
tem, that  couples  the  refutation  of  idealism  with  a  denial 
of  the  ohjectivity  of  space,  cannot  be  disputed.  External 
nature  has  a  being  independent  of  our  ideas,  though  the 
manner  of  that  being  transcends  the  limits  of  all  thought. 
Kant  contented  himself  at  first  with  a  simple  protest 
against  the  ideal  theory  ;  but,  when  his  opponents  charged 
him  with  denying  in  words  what  was  an  unavoidable  infer- 
ence from  his  own  system,  in  the  second  edition  of  the 
"  Critique  "  he  inserted  a  proof  of  the  existence  of  matter. 
Of  the  validity  of  this  proof,  we  say  nothing,  for  we  do  not 
profess  to  understand  it,  and  have  great  doubts  whether  the 
author  understood  it  himself.  It  is  an  excrescence  on  the 
system,  violating  its  unity,  and  contradicting  what  must  be 
inferred  from  his  doctrines  as  a  whole. 

The  intuitions  of  sense  form  the  groundwork  of  our  cog- 
nitions, but  in  themselves  are  unformed  and  incomplete. 
Before  they  constitute  knowledge,  they  must  become  ob- 
jects of  thought  to  the  understanding,  a  faculty  distinguished 
from  that  of  sense,  as  its  operations  are  independent  of 
space  and  time.  The  latter  represents  the  matter  of  things, 
as  it  is  affected  by  them  ;  the  former,  exercising  spon- 
taneity in  a  higher  degree,  collects  the  variety  of  these 
materials  into  a  whole.  What  the  intuitions  of  space  and 
time  are  to  the  functions- of  sense,  the  categories  are  to  the 
understanding.  They  are  forms  of  thought,  under  which 
intuitions  are  necessarily  taken  in,  or  subsumed,  and  thereby 
become  conceptions,  the  legitimate  products  of  the  under- 
standing. They  are  twelve  in  number,  divided  into  four 
equal  classes  ;  those  of  quantity,  quality,  relation,  and 
modality.  The  nomenclature  is  obviously  borrowed  from 
that  of  the  logician,  and  thus  indicates  the  source  of  the 
theory,  and  the  grounds  on  which  it  rests.  Kant  was  early 
struck   with  the  similarity  between  the  first  principles  of 


60  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

logic  and  the  necessary  laws,  to  which,  in  an  ontological 
point  of  view,  all  the  objects  of  our  perceptions  appear  to 
be  subjected.  Might  not  the  similarity  of  appearance  be 
founded  on  the  radical  identity  of  the  two  classes  ?  Every 
act  of  reasoning,  considered  abstractly,  takes  place  under 
certain  forms  or  laws,  which  have  undoubted  authority,  and 
the  number  and  reality  of  which  may  be  determined  with 
the  utmost  precision.  Might  not  these  forms  be  identical 
with  the  laws,  which  we  fancy  are  drawn  from  the  obser- 
vation of  nature,  but  which,  on  this  hypothesis,  must  be 
considered  as  imposed  on  nature  by  our  own  intellectual 
activity  ?  Kant  answers  this  question  in  the  affirmative, 
and,  having  remodelled  and  completed  to  his  own  satisfac- 
tion the  table  of  categories,  claims  to  have  resolved  by  their 
means  the  problem  respecting  the  possibility  of  a  priori 
knowledge  in  the  department  of  physics.  To  every  con- 
ception or  judgment  that  forms  a  part  of  our  knowledge  are 
applied  at  least  four  categories,  taken  respectively  from  the 
four  classes  into  which  these  forms  of  thought  have  been 
divided.  In  other  words,  we  must  think  of  the  object,  in 
the  first  place,  as  being  either  o?ze,  many,  or  all ;  secondly, 
as  positive,  negative,  or  limited;  thirdly,  as  substance  or  ac- 
cident, cause  or  effect,  or  as  placed  in  reciprocity  with  some- 
thing else  by  the  law  of  action  and  reaction  ;  finally,  as 
possible  or  impossible,  existent  or  nonexistent,  necessary  or 
contingent. 

The  categories  are  necessary  conditions  of  thinking  upon 
any  object,  but  in  themselves  they  do  not  enable  us  to  know 
the  object.  To  accomplish  this  purpose,  real  intuitions  must 
be  given,  to  which  the  categories  may  be  referred ;  and, 
since  all  intuitions  come  from  sense,  the  office  of  the  under- 
standing extends  only  to  sensible  things.  Beyond  the  opera- 
tions of  the  senses,  or  the  territory  of  experience,  nothing 
is  cognizable.     This  remark  applies  even  to  our  own  na- 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  61 

ture.  Pure  consciousness  gives  us  assurance,  that  we  exist ; 
but,  since  there  is  no  intuition  of  this  fact,  and  it  is  thought 
upon  only  by  the  spontaneity  of  the  understanding,  so  our 
own  being  cannot  be  known  in  itself,  but  only  the  nnanner 
of  that  being.  Empirical  consciousness  of  changes  in  our 
internal  condition  must  be  distinguished  from  pure  con- 
sciousness of  self-existence.  Universally,  therefore,  the 
functions  of  the  understanding  are  empirical,  and  not  trans- 
cendental ;  they  refer  to  objects  as  phenomena,  and  not  as 
things  in  themselves. 

Notwithstanding  this  necessary  limitation  of  our  capaci- 
ties to  a  knowledge  of  objects  within  the  domain  of  experi- 
ence, the  mind  constantly  strives  to  rise  above  the  sphere 
of  the  senses,  and,  as  in  the  metaphysical  systems  of  the 
older  philosophy,  fashions  for  itself  a  science  of  things  in 
themselves,  which  are  supersensual  and  unconditioned.  An 
analysis  of  our  intellectual  faculties  is  incomplete,  if  it  does 
not  account  for  this  effort,  —  if  it  does  not  develope  some 
deep-seated  cause,  which  constantly  impels  us  to  a  search 
after  what  is  absolute  and  unlimited,  and  gives  to  the  sup- 
posed knowledge  of  it  a  deceptive  appearance  of  validity. 
Kant  finds  such  a  cause  in  the  third  cognitive  faculty  of 
man,  denominated  par  excellence  the  Reason,  —  spontaneity 
raised  to  the  highest  degree,  —  the  chief  function  of  which 
is  to  support  this  unceasing,  but  vain  endeavor.  As  the 
power  of  sense  has  its  forms,  and  the  understanding  its  cat- 
egories, so  the  reason  has  its  ideas^  created  by  adding  to 
conceptions  elaborated  by  the  next  lower  faculty  a  notion 
of  the  infinite  and  the  absolute.  They  are  three  in  num- 
ber ;  the  idea  of  the  absolute  unity  of  the  thinking  subject, 
which  is  the  aim  of  rational  psychology ;  the  idea  of  the 
absolute  totality  of  phenomena,  the  universe,  which  forms 
the  purpose  of  rational  cosmology  ;  finally,  the  idea  of  ab- 
6 


62  KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

solute  reality,  the  highest  condition  of  all  things,  the  first 
cause,  which  is  the  object  of  rational  theology.  In  other 
words,  by  a  necessary  impulse  of  our  nature  we  must  as- 
sume the  unity  of  the  soul,  the  existence  of  the  universe, 
and  the  reality  of  a  first  cause.  But  these  ideas  enter  not 
the  field  of  positive  knowledge.  They  constitute  the  possi- 
bility of  metaphysics  as  an  idea,  but  not  as  actual  science. 
No  proof  of  their  objective  validity  can  be  furnished,  for  it 
is  their  essence  not  to  be  referred  to  corresponding  objects 
cognizable  through  sense ;  they  are  derived  subjectively 
from  the  reason.  Yet  they  are  not  wholly  without  use,  as 
they  answer  at  least  a  regulative  purpose.  They  urge  our 
empirical  inquiries  onward  to  higher  and  nobler  ends,  than 
would  otherwise  be  pursued  ;  and,  though  the  objects  them- 
selves are  unattainable,  the  effort  serves  to  give  greater 
comparative  unity  and  completeness  to  our  system  of 
knowledge. 

The  result  of  the  theory  may  be  given  in  Kant's  own 
words.  "  All  knowledge  of  things  derived  solely  from  the 
pure  understanding,  or  from  pure  reason,  is  nothing  but 
empty  show  ;  and  truth  is  to  be  found  only  through  experi- 
ence." He  expressly  denies  the  validity  of  the  a  priori 
argument  for  the  freedom  of  the  will,  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  and  the  existence  of  a  God  ;  and  rebukes  the  ar- 
rogance of  the  schools  for  assuming  to  themselves  higher 
grounds  of  conviction  than  are  open  to  the  vulgar.  His 
aim  is,  not  merely  to  show  the  futility  of  the  proofs  already 
advanced  in  support  of  these  great  doctrines,  but  to  demon- 
strate the  absolute  impracticability  of  the  attempt  to  estab- 
lish them  under  any  circumstances.  The  reason  may  and 
will  exhaust  itself  by  perpetual  efforts  to  transcend  the 
limits  of  possible  inquiry, —  erecting  systems  and,  almost  in 
the  same  breath,  pulling  them  down  again  ;  because  urged 
on  by  an  irresistible   impulse,  that  prevents  it  from  being 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  OS 

taught  wisdom  by  repeated  failures,  and  from  acknowledg- 
ing that  it  has  overtasked  its  powers  and  mistaken  its  pre- 
rogatives. The  arguments  relating  to  these  sublime  doc- 
trines are  summed  up  on  either  side,  and  found  to  be 
equally  irrefutable,  and  therefore  equally  false.  Then  it  is 
vain  to  argue  either  for  or  against  them ;  the  supporter  and 
the  assailant  alike  are  silenced. 

Such  a  result  of  metaphysical  inquiry  as  this,  reminds 
one  of  Madame  de  Stael's  remark  on  former  skeptical  sys- 
tems ;  that  "  they  changed  the  light  of  knowledge  into  a 
devouring  flame  ;  and  Philosophy,  like  an  enraged  magi- 
cian, fired  the  palace  on  which  she  had  lavished  all  the 
prodigies  of  her  skill."  It  should  be  observed,  however, 
that  Kant  himself,  alarmed  by  the  sweeping  skepticism  of 
these  conclusions,  in  his  "  Critique  of  Practical  Reason," 
subsequently  published,  labors  to  do  away  with  his  own 
work,  and  to  find  in  our  moral  nature  what  the  speculative 
reason  cannot  afford, —  a  foundation  for  the  belief  in 
things  unseen  and  eternal.  The  attempt  forms  a  virtual 
acknowledgment  of  the  necessity  of  those  doctrines,  which 
he  had  previously  refused  to  legitimate  ;  they  are  intro- 
duced into  the  field  of  ethics  as  postulates,  without  which 
moral  phenomena  remain  inexplicable. 

Our  outline  of  this  celebrated  system  is  necessarily  very 
imperfect,  but  it  may  serve  to  correct  some  unfounded  no- 
lions  of  its  character  and  tendency.  The  authority  of  Kant 
as  a  teacher  of  opinions,  even  in  his  native  country,  has 
passed  away  ;  and  the  result  has  come  far  short  of  justify- 
ing his  boast,  that  he  had  given  a  new  and  sure  basis  to 
mental  science,  and  fixed  the  principles  and  method  of  its 
progress.  Speculation  has  broken  the  trammels,  with 
which  he  would  have  limited  its  aberrations,  and  has  pur- 
sued a  course  more  erratic  than  ever.  Opinions  have  varied 
as  widely  in  the   mass,  and   fluctuated  as  rapidly  in  the  in- 


64 


KANT    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


dividual,  as  if  he  had  never  determined  "  the  only  possible 
method  "  of  avoiding  hesitancy  and  confusion,  and  placing 
metaphysics  on   the  same  stable  foundation  with  the  other 
abstract  sciences.     But  the  indirect  influences  of  his  writ- 
ings may  be  distinctly  traced  in  the  works  of  nearly  all  the 
speculatists,  who  have  succeeded  him,  not  only  in   Germa 
ny,  but  in  France  and  England.     While  his  innovations  in 
the  nomenclature  have  changed  the  whole  garb  of  philoso 
phy,   and   rendered  the  study   of  systems   more   abstruse 
fatiguing,  and  repulsive,  it   must   be   confessed,  that  they 
have  also  removed  some  causes  of  ambiguity  and  mistake 
and  have  pointed  out  the  path  for  effecting  a  more  syste 
matic  and  beneficial  reform.    His  example  has  also  given  a 
fresher  impulse  to  the  spirit  of  inquiry,  increased  the  eager 
ness  for  the  formation  of  new   systems,  and   carried  bold 
ness  of  theorizing  on  all  topics  far  beyond   its  ancient  lim 
its.       His    great   demerit   consists,    in    having   effectually, 
though  perhaps  not  intentionally,  served  the  cause  of  infi 
delity,  while  professing  to  repair  and  extend  the  defences 
of  belief.     Had  the   real   character  of  his  doctrines  been 
evident  at  a  glance,  their  influence,  whether  for  good  or 
evil,  could  not  have  reached  so  far.    But  his  disciples  grop- 
ed about  in  the  intricacies  of  a  system,  which  they  could 
not  fully  master,  and  embraced  opinions,  of  the  nature  and 
tendency  of  which  they  had  but  a  blind  conception.     Thus, 
they  were  fairly  enlisted  on  the  side  of  skepticism,  before 
they  had  thought  of  quitting  the   banners  of  faith.     Once 
engaged  in  the  work,  they  felt  only  the  desire  of  surpassing 
their  instructor  in  dogmatism  of  manner,  rashness  in   form- 
ing novel  hypotheses,  and  general  license  of  speculation  on 
the  most  sacred  subjects.     As  his  theory  extended  over  the 
whole  territory  of  knowledge,  almost  every  science  has  in 
turn  been  infected  with  the  wild   and  crude  imaginings  of 
his  followers.     It  is  this  general  effervescence  of  thought 


KANT    AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  65 

and  reasoning,  which  has  brought  a  reproach  on  the  very- 
name  of  philosophy,  and,  through  the  mournful  perversion 
of  terms  which  it  has  occasioned,  has  given  too  good  cause 
for  regarding  a  system  of  philosophical  radicalism  as  a 
mere  cover  for  an  attack  on  all  the  principles  of  govern- 
ment and  social  order,  and  for  considering  a  philosophical 
religion  as  atheism  itself.  Under  such  circumstances,  we 
can  hardly  wonder,  that  many  reflecting  persons  have  con- 
ceived a  distrust  of  the  consequences  of  such  free  inquiry, 
and  do  not  suppress  either  alarm  or  contempt  at  the  bare 
mention  of  German  metaphysics. 


6* 


66  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 


III. 

FICHTE'S    EXPOSITION    OF    KAJNTt 
PHILOSOPHY  APPLIED   TO  THEOLOGY.* 

We  propose,  in  this  essay,  to  give  some  account  of  the 
system  of  theology,  which,  in  Germany,  has  been  derived 
from  the  principles  of  what  is  there  called  the  "  Critical 
Philosophy,"  but  which  is  better  known  among  us  by  the 
name  of  Transcendentalism.  We  mean  the  system  which 
is  founded  directly  and  entirely  on  the  basis  of  that  philoso- 
phy, paying  no  regard  at  present  to  the  modifications  it  has 
undergone  in  the  hands  of  subsequent  inquirers,  or  to  the 
partial  influence,  which  the  same  speculative  theory  has 
had  upon  other  systems,  which  were  chiefly  drawn  from 
different  sources.  The  prodigious  impulse,  that  the  writ- 
ings of  Kant  gave  to  the  speculative  genius  of  his  country- 
men, is  visible  enough  in  every  walk  of  literature  and  sci- 
ence, but  nowhere  are  its  effects  so  widely  and  strongly 
marked  as  in  the  province  of  the  theologian.  It  was  natu- 
ral that  it  should  be  so.  Philosophy  and  theology  are  sister 
sciences,  so  closely  allied,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  deter- 
mine the  boundaries  between  them.  Every  person  must 
hold  some  opinions  relative  to  each,  and  these  opinions 
form  two  mutually  dependent  creeds,  that  are  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  peculiar  to  himself,  and  of  which  the  action 
and  reaction  are  so  nearly  equal,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to 
determine  which  is  the  parent  of  the  other.  Every  theory 
respecting  the  origin   and  first  principles  of  human   knowl- 

*From  the  Christian  Examiner  for  May,  184  L 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  67 

edge  must  bear  a  close  relation  to  that  subject,  on  which  of 
all  others  knowledge  is  the  most  important,  —  the  doctrine 
of  God,  duty,  and  immortality.  The  religion  of  the  Greeks 
and  Romans,  so  far  as  it  existed  in  a  definite  and  consistent 
form,  that  is,  as  it  was  conceived  by  enlightened  and 
thinking  men  among  them,  was  wholly  drawn  from  their 
philosophical  tenets,  or  more  properly  speaking,  it  was 
identical  with  those  tenets.  And  so  it  has  been  in  modern 
times.  Skepticism  in  philosophy  and  in  religion,  if  not  the 
same  thing,  at  least,  always  go  together.  The  metaphy- 
sics of  Calvinism  are  as  much  a  component  part  of  its 
creed,  as  the  "  five  points  "  themselves.  This  intimate  con- 
nexion between  two  great  branches  of  human  inquiry  sup- 
plies an  additional  means  of  estimating  the  truth  and  value 
of  the  results  obtained  in  investigating  either.  Unsound 
conclusions  in  the  one  must  be  drawn  from  false  premises 
in  the  other. 

Kant  perceived  at  once,  that  his  system  of  metaphysics 
led  to  many  important  results  respecting  the  great  truths  of 
religion,  and  he  occupied  himself  at  an  early  period  in 
tracing  out  and  establishing  those  points  in  a  separate  trea- 
tise. His  work,  entitled  "  Religion  within  the  Limits  of 
mere  Reason,"  appeared  in  1793,  twelve  years  after  the 
publication  of  the  "  Critique  of  Pure  Reason."  But  he  had 
been  anticipated  by  a  zealous  young  disciple,  whose  ardor 
in  philosophical  pursuits,  at  first  exerted  only  in  carrying 
out  and  defending  the  principles  of  his  master,  was  des- 
tined soon  to  receive  a  different  direction,  and  to  establish  a 
rival  system,  the  reputation  of  which  triumphed  for  a  time 
over  that  of  its  predecessor.  Fichte's  first  work,  "  A  Critique 
of  all  Revelation,"  was  published  anonymously  in  1792, 
and,  being  avowedly  established  on  the  basis  of  the  Critical 
Philosophy,  the  principles  of  which  it  merely  developed 
and  applied  to  another  subject,  it  was  at  first  universally 


68  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

attributed  to  Kant  himself.  Fichte  claimed  it  in  the  second 
edition,  though  the  first  conception  of  his  own  philosophical 
system  was  probably  even  then  floating  in  his  mind  ;  and 
as  this  differed  widely  from  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  it  is 
not  likely,  that,  at  any  subsequent  period  of  his  life,  he 
would  have  defended  this  early  theory  of  revelation.  Still, 
he  never  expressly  disavowed  it,  and,  as  at  the  time  of  its 
publication  he  was  in  every  sense  a  scholar  at  the  feet  of  Ga- 
maliel,—  a  thorough  Kantist  in  word  and  opinion,  the  work 
may  fairly  be  considered  as  a  right  application  of  Transcen- 
dental principles  to  the  subject  of  which  it  treats,  —  as  an 
authentic  development  of  the  Critical  Philosophy  by  one  of 
its  ablest  disciples.  Compared  with  other  works  of  the 
same  class,  it  has  the  highest  merit  in  point  of  execution. 
Of  course,  it  bristles  all  over  with  the  formidable  ter- 
minology of  its  school,  but  the  writer  uses  this  strange  dia- 
lect with  the  ease  and  strength  of  a  master,  while  the 
superior  method,  precision,  and  succinctness  of  his  manner 
render  the  book  less  tiresome  than  any  of  Kant's  own 
treatises.  We  shall  follow  it  as  a  guide  in  the  sketch  pro- 
posed, rather  than  the  work  already  mentioned  by  Kant  him- 
self, because  it  is  more  complete,  and  the  results  are  more 
definite,  and  more  directly  traced  to  their  source.  The 
two  treatises  differ  widely  in  plan,  but,  as  might  be  expect- 
ed, the  writers  arrive  at  precisely  the  same  conclusion. 

In  order  to  show  clearly  the  starting  point  of  the  inquiry, 
a  few  words  must  be  premised  respecting  some  points  pre- 
viously established  in  the  "  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,"  and 
which  are  taken  for  granted  in  the  work  before  us.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Transcendental  Philosophy,  then,  what  is 
properly  termed  knowledge  is  entirely  confined  within  the 
region  of  experience.  We  know  nothing,  and  can  know 
nothing,  of  any  object,  that  may  not  be  conceived  to  exist 
in  space  and  time,  —  which  may  not  be  assumed  under  the 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  69 

Categories,  or  laws  of  thought  relative  to  the  understand- 
ing. The  Reason  does,  indeed,  form  to  itself  pure  ideas, 
which  go  beyond  the  limits  of  sense  and  experience.  But, 
as  we  know  no  object  to  which  these  are  applicable,  they 
remain  as  mere  ideas,  wholly  incognizable.  Such  are  our 
notions  of  God,  of  moral  freedom,  and  of  immortality, 
which  wholly  transcend  the  limits  of  our  merely  intellec- 
tual nature.  It  is  of  no  use  to  argue  about  them,  because 
the  proof  and  the  refutation  will  be  found  to  have  the  same 
cogency,  —  to  be  equally  true  and  equally  false.  These 
great  subjects  are  for  ever  removed  from  the  sphere  of  dis- 
putation, because  they  are  placed  beyond  the  cognizance  of 
that  faculty,  by  which  alone  any  reasoning  process  can  be 
conducted.  In  regard  to  the  mere  "  Speculative  Reason," 
that  is,  to  the  intellect,  they  are  banished  into  a  limbo  of 
cloudhke  forms  and  unreal  fancies.  But  in  treating  of  the 
"  Practical  Reason,"  that  is,  of  our  moral  nature,  these 
ideas  again  appear,  and  assume  more  the  appearance  of 
realities.  The  moral  law  within  us  requires  something  be- 
sides itself  to  carry  out  its  own  principles,  —  to  aid  it 
in  performing  its  self-imposed  functions.  Realities  cor- 
responding to  the  abovementioned  ideas  are  necessary  to 
the  existence  of  that  state  of  things,  which  is  not  merely 
contemplated,  but  absolutely  required,  by  this  law.  The 
categorical  and  imperative  nature  of  all  the  dictates  of  this 
principle  is  sufficient  to  annul  all  obstacles  to  their  fulfil- 
ment, since  otherwise  there  would  be  entire  contradiction 
between  two  principles  of  our  nature,  which  is  impossible. 
This  is  easily  seen  in  the  case  of  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
since  the  necessitarian  doctrine  destroys  all  the  obligations 
of  morality,  by  rendering  compliance  with  them  impossible. 
The  skeptic  can  only  oppose  this  conclusion  by  arguments 
drawn  from  the  Speculative  Reason,  which,  like  all  other 
considerations  derived  from  the  same  source  in  relation  to 


70  FICHTE's    exposition    of   KANT  I 

a  subject  of  this  sort,  have  been  shown  to  be  entirely 
groundless.  We  do  not  therefore  prove  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  but  assume  it  as  a  necessary  postulate^  in  order  that  it 
may  be  possible  to  comply  with  the  requisitions  of  the 
moral  law.  We  say  nothing  at  present  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  existence  of  a  God  and  the  reality  of  a  future 
state  are  taken  also  as  postulates,  in  aid  of  the  same  law, 
because  the  point  will  come  up  again  in  a  different  con- 
nexion. 

The  precise  spot  at  which  we  are  left  by  the  principles 
of  Transcendentalism,  before  entering  upon  the  subject  of 
religion,  is,  therefore,  clearly  ascertained.  A  revelation 
cannot  be  addressed  in  any  way  to  the  intellect  of  men, 
since  not  merely  the  subject,  to  which  it  must  relate,  but 
the  constituent  ideas,  —  the  notions,  that  must  be  presup- 
posed before  the  conception  of  a  revelation  is  possible, — 
belong  entirely  to  our  moral  nature. 

Here,  then,  is  the  starting  point  of  Fichte's  inquiry. 
For  the  sake  of  philosophical  completeness,  and  to  avoid 
any  bias  for  or  against  an  existing  system  of  belief,  he 
states  the  problem,  which  is  to  be  the  object  of  his  re- 
searches, in  its  most  general  form.  He  proposes  to  estab- 
lish a  "  Critique,"  — that  is,  a  fundamental  examination  on 
the  principles  of  the  Critical  Philosophy,  —  not  of  that 
revelation,  in  which  Christians  are  specially  interested,  nor 
of  any  other  in  particular,  but  of  all  possible  revelations. 
In  other  words,  supposing  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  of 
a  race  of  beings  constituted  and  situated  as  we  are,  he  pro- 
poses to  determine,  whether  it  be  possible,  that  He  should 
make  a  special  communication  to  His  creatures,  and  if  so, 
in  what  way  it  is  possible.  There  is  no  lack  of  boldness  in 
the  attempt,  especially  when  we  consider,  that  the  inquiry 
is  to  be  carried  on,  not  as  a  mere  speculation,  but  like  a 
piece  of  mathematical  reasoning,  and  that  the  results,  if 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  71 

any  are  obtained,  are  to  be  as  little  susceptible  of  doubt,  as 
any  theorem  in  Euclid.  Such,  indeed,  is  the  assumed 
characteristic  of  the  Transcendental  Philosophy,  that,  rest- 
ing only  on  the  original  and  instinctive  principles  of  our 
nature,  independent  of  all  experience,  (a  priori  principles 
of  pure  Reason,)  neither  its  procedure  nor  results  have 
any  thing  of  the  contingent  and  empirical  character  of 
ordinary  reasoning  on  similar  subjects,  but  are  demonstra- 
tively certain.  The  Transcendentalist  and  the  Geometer 
take  their  departure  from  principles  of  the  same  nature, 
and  travel  the  sam.e  sort  of  road,  though  the  objects  of  their 
labor  are  so  dissimilar. 

We  must  pass  rapidly  over  the  masterly  analysis  of  the 
AVill,  that  forms  the  introduction  to  Fichte's  treatise,  and 
which,  taken  by  itself,  constitutes  a  very  pure  and  noble 
system  of  Ethics.  A  few  points  of  the  system  may  be 
presented,  divested,  as  far  as  possible,  of  the  barbarous 
terminology,  with  which  they  are  obscured  in  the  original. 

The  object  of  every  volition,  except  in  a  single  case  to 
be  considered  hereafter,  must  be  a  sensation,  whether  pro- 
ceeding from  the  outer  or  inner  sense.  But  since  this 
sensation  does  not  lie  in  immediate  contact  with  the  Will,  a 
connecting  link  is  supplied  by  a  propensity^  or  desire^  the 
nature  of  which  is  determined  on  the  one  hand,  by  the 
characteristics  of  the  object  to  which  it  relates,  and  on  the 
other,  by  the  peculiar  constitution  of  the  mind  in  which  it 
exists.  The  aggregate  of  these  propensities  and  desires,  or 
rather  the  source  whence  they  emanate,  may  be  termed 
the  lower  appetitive  faculty.  This  term  includes,  not 
merely  the  grosser  appetites,  to  which  alone  we  usually 
give  the  name  of  sensual  desires,  but  also  those  proceeding 
from  the  internal  sense,  which  we  are  accustomed  improp- 
erly to  consider  as  refined,  intellectual  pleasures  ;  such  as 
those  of  rhetoric  and  poetry.     The  exercise  of  any  of  the 


72  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

higher  powers  of  mind  is  productive  of  pleasure,  and  the 
perception  of  that  pleasure  through  the  internal  sense,  — 
the  finer  organization  of  which  we  denominate  sensibility^ 
—  affords  what  may  become  the  object  of  a  volition,  but 
which  is  evidently  of  sensual  origin.  The  two  classes  of 
desires  may  be  distinguished  respectively  as  gross  and 
refined,  but  they  are  still  both  derived  from  sense  ;  from 
the  one  class  we  may  receive  more  enjoyment,  though  not 
of  a  different  kind,  from  that  obtained  through  the  other. 
Of  any  particular  sensation,  we  can  only  say,  that  it  must 
be  by  nature  pleasant  or  unpleasant,  —  that  it  excites  either 
liking  or  aversion.  Why  it  is  so  constituted,  is  a  question 
that  we  cannot  answer. 

The  object  of  a  volition  may  be  either  a  simple  sensation, 
just  as  it  was  first  experienced,  or  it  may  be  a  compound 
notion,  still  formed  from  elements  derived  from  sense,  but 
variously  modified  and  combined  by  the  judgment.  By  a 
process  of  this  sort,  we  form  the  conception  of  happiness^ 
or  continued  enjoyment;  a  state  in  which  pleasure  is  ob- 
tained by  system  and  rules,  whereby  one  pleasant  sensation 
is  postponed  or  sacrificed  for  another  of  greater  intensity 
or  duration,  —  one  which  injures  the  power  of  sensation  for 
another  which  strengthens  it,  —  one  which  is  isolated  for 
another  that  is  followed  by  subsequent  delights,  or  which 
heightens  the  relish  for  them.  We  must  suppose  in  the 
Will  the  existence  of  a  power  to  suspend  the  immediate 
action  of  a  sensation  upon  it,  in  order  that  the  judgment 
may  have  time  to  act  in  the  comparison  and  disposition  of 
the  several  pleasures  placed  before  it.  In  the  former  case, 
where  the  volition  is  determined  by  a  single  sensation,  the 
mind  is  merely  passive  ;  but  in  the  latter,  it  is  active  in  two 
respects,  —  double  exercise  of  spontaneity;  first,  in  sus- 
pending immediate  action,  secondly,  in  forming  the  com- 
pound  notion,  which  is  ultimately  to  determine   the  will. 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED   TO    THEOLOGY.  73 

Still,  it  is  not  altogether  active,  since  the  materials  of  the 
compound  idea  are  given  to  it  by  sensation,  and  are  not 
created  by  its  own  spontaneous  power.  For  an  instance  of 
unmixed  mental  activity,  —  pure  spontaneity,  —  we  must 
look  farther. 

Every  perception  consists  of  two  elements;  the  matter^ 
or  that  portion  given  by  sense,  and  the  form,  or  that  change 
superinduced  upon  the  matter,  in  consequence  of  the  mind 
reacting  upon  and  modifying  the  sensation.  Forms  are 
the  coloring,  with  which  the  mind  necessarily  invests  every 
thing  that  is  presented  to  it, —  the  modification  which  is 
effected  in  every  object  by  the  very  act  of  contemplating  it. 
Thus  the  faculty  of  sense  has  two  universal  forms,  time 
and  space,  with  which  it  invests  all  outward  things,  and 
which,  though  really  derived  only  from  itself,  it  attributes 
to  the  objects  perceived ;  just  as  a  man  looking  through 
colored  glass  thinks  he  sees  blue  or  yellow  herbage  and 
trees.  Now,  has  not  the  Will  some  universal  form  of  this 
sort,  actually  drawn  from  its  own  constitution,  with  which 
it  necessarily  clothes  all  its  objects,  so  that  no  motive,  pro- 
pensity, or  desire  can  be  present  to  it,  except  as  modified 
by  this  general  attribute  ?  We  find  such  a  one  in  the  idea 
of  absolute  Right,  a  consciousness  of  the  existence  of 
which  is  the  principal  fact,  that  announces  itself  as  soon  as 
we  are  conscious  of  any  volition  whatever.  Properly 
speaking.  Right  is  always  an  attribute  of  something  else, — 
of  some  object  of  the  Will,  —  {form  always  united  with 
matter,) — and  it  is  only  by  a  process  of  abstraction,  that 
we  set  it  up  to  be  considered  by  itself,  and  speak  of  it  as  a 
distinct  idea  or  conception.  When,  thus  placed  by  itself, 
it  becomes  the  immediate  object  of  a  volition,  we  have  the 
instance,  that  was  sought,  of  a  determination  of  the  Will 
free  from  any  empirical  element, — pure  spontaneity.  In 
the  doctrine  above  considered,  of  happiness  founded  on 
7 


74  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

sensual  gratification,  however  refined,  the  conclusions  must 
be  empirical  and  contingent,  since  no  one  can  judge  from 
his  own  experience  what  will  be  pleasant  to  another,  or 
even  what  will  gratify  himself  at  any  future  time.  But  in 
a  code  of  conduct  formed  with  reference  to  this  idea  of 
Right,  which  has  no  element  derived  from  experience,  the 
precept  must  be  applicable  to  all  intelligent  beings,  —  must 
have  absolute  certainty  and  universality,  like  the  axioms  of 
the  mathematician. 

This  universal  form  is  connected  with  the  Will  through 
the  emotion  of  respect,  or  reverence,  and  then  becomes  a 
direct  principle  of  action.  The  emotion  referred  to  the  in- 
dividual himself,  appears  as  self-respect ;  in  regard  to  the 
law  of  Right,  it  is  manifested  in  reverence,  or  perfect  sub- 
mission ;  and  towards  the  ideal  Being,  of  whom  this  law  in 
its  perfection  is  an  attribute,  it  passes  over  into  absolute 
veneration.  Hence  the  maxim,  "  Respect  thyself,"  is  a  per- 
fectly legitimate  law  in  ethics,  since  it  is  founded  on  a  feel- 
ing, which,  unlike  that  of  self-love,  is  morally  pure  in  its 
origin.  The  ofiice  of  this  feeling  is  to  limit  and  repress  the 
lower  appetitive  faculty,  and  although  in  this  function  it  ap- 
pears to  abridge  our  personal  gratification,  yet  its  exercise 
is  found  to  create  a  pleasure,  different  in  kind  from  that 
produced  by  sense,  and  infinitely  surpassing  it  in  degree. 
That  the  balance  of  power  over  the  Will  is  held  between 
the  purely  moral  and  the  sensual  motive  is  evident  from  the 
very  fact,  that  both  these  principles  of  action  exist  in  the 
same  mind ;  but  the  latter  is  so  far  from  putting  itself  on  an 
equality  with  the  former,  that  it  rather  does  reverence  at 
the  mere  idea  of  Law,  and  a  far  more  heartfelt  pleasure 
follows  the  renunciation,  than  any  compliance  with  the 
lower  impulse  could  ever  bestow. 

As  the  love  of  happiness  is  at  least  a  natural  principle, 
the  question  arises,  how  far  it  is  sanctioned  by  the  moral 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  75 

law.  A  too  hasty  decision  of  this  question,  against  all 
claim  on  the  part  of  the  desire,  leads  directly  to  a  system 
of  Stoicism  in  morals,  to  the  principle  of  entire  self-suffi- 
ciency, and  even,  —  if  followed  out  to  its  remotest  conse- 
quences,—  to  a  denial  of  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul.  When  a  regard  for  our  own 
happiness,  considered  as  a  motive,  has  once  acknowledged 
the  limitations  imposed  on  it  by  morality,  it  acquires  a 
sanction,  and,  where  the  law  is  silent,  it  becomes  a  legiti- 
mate principle  of  action.  In  such  case,  the  action  contem- 
plated, when  considered  in  an  ethical  point  of  view,  is 
merely  negative,  —  not  contrary  to  Right;  and  being  then 
referred  to  the  natural  desire  for  our  own  well-being,  it 
becomes  positively  a  right.  I  am  entitled  to  every  thing, 
which  I  can  obtain  without  a  violation  of  moral  principle. 

From  the  justification  of  this  natural  impulse  arises  the 
idea  of  desert^  a  conception  of  the  highest  importance  in 
Ethics.  Guided  by  this  idea,  we  necessarily  approve  the 
law  of  requital  in  kind,  —  \he  jus  talionis',  we  are  gratified, 
when  the  external  condition  of  any  one  corresponds  to  the 
dispositions  he  has  manifested.  This  feeling  in  its  full 
force  requires  an  entire  agreement  between  the  fortunes  of 
an  individual  and  his  moral  conduct.  That,  in  the  world 
we  live  in,  such  agreement  in  many  cases  does  not  exist,  is 
a  fact,  for  the  explanation  of  which  we  pass  over  from  the 
territory  of  Ethics,  into  that  of  Natural  Theology. 

Our  good  or  ill  fortune  depends  in  a  great  measure  on 
the  course  of  natural  events,  since  we  live  under  physical 
laws,  and  the  demand  of  our  moral  nature,  that  happiness 
should  be  parcelled  out  in  direct  proportion  to  the  merits  of 
individuals,  stands  in  perpetual  conflict  with  these  laws. 
Now  the  moral  law  must  secure  to  us  the  enjoyment  of 
those  rights,  which  it  has  itself  bestowed,  or  it  contradicts 
itself,  and  ceases  to  be  a  law.     To  obtain  this  end,  refer- 


76  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

ence  must  be  had  to  an  ideal  being,  who  is  the  author  of 
Nature,  and  with  whom,  consequently,  physical  necessity  is 
merged  in  moral /reedom.  This  being  we  call  God,  whose 
existence  is  just  as  certain  as  that  of  the  moral  law  itself. 
His  attributes  are  easily  inferred  from  the  mere  fact  of  his 
existence,  and  from  the  necessary  assumption,  that  he  must 
carry  into  effect  all  the  requisitions  of  that  law,  which  exists 
in  Him  without  limit  or  control. 

Thus  far,  we  have  a  Theology^  or  a  doctrine  of  God,  but 
as  yet  we  have  obtained  no  Religion.  The  former  is  a 
mere  lifeless  science,  that  can  have  no  practical  influence  ; 
but  the  latter,  according  to  its  etymology,  must  hind  us  to 
something,  —  must  impose  obligations,  which  would  not 
exist,  if  there  were  no  religion.  To  explain  the  origin  of 
religious  ideas,  properly  so  called,  the  argument  must  be 
developed  more  fully. 

If  the  idea  of  Right  were  given  to  us  as  a  mere  theoreti- 
cal conception,  without  any  reference  to  its  power  over  the 
Will,  it  would  be  to  us  a  mere  object  of  reflection,  a  means 
of  considering  certain  things  in  Nature  under  an  additional 
aspect,  of  viewing  them  not  only  as  they  are,  but  as  they 
ought  to  be.  But  even  in  this  case,  we  should  not  be  wholly 
indifferent  to  the  result.  The  perception  of  an  agreement 
between  this  idea  and  the  course  of  outward  events  would 
excite  in  us  a  feeling  of  pleasure.  So  it  is  in  reality.  The 
joy  with  which  we  witness  the  failure  of  malicious  attempts, 
or  the  detection  and  punishment  of  the  wicked,  or  the  suc- 
cess of  virtuous  endeavor,  or  the  recompense  of  the  righ- 
teous for  the  evils  they  have  suffered  and  the  sacrifices  they 
have  made  on  the  road  of  virtue,  is  founded  on  the  inmost 
principles  of  our  nature,  and  is  the  never-failing  source  of 
the  interest  we  take  in  poetry  and  fiction.  Still,  it  would  be 
a  m.ere  indolent  gratification,  unaccompanied  with  desire, 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  77 

like  that  which  attends  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  painting  or 
landscape. 

But  universal  experience  assures  us,  that  the  application 
of  moral  ideas  to  real  events  is  accompanied  with  strong  de- 
sire. In  the  world  of  tragedy  and  romance,  we  are  not 
satisfied,  till  the  honor  of  the  innocent  is  rescued  and  the 
unjust  persecutor  is  unmasked  and  punished,  however  con- 
trary such  an  issue  may  be  to  the  usual  course  of  events  in 
the  actual  world.  And  we  may  remark  in  passing,  that  the 
very  fact  of  our  requiring  in  fiction  a  different  allotment  of 
good  and  evil  fortune  from  that  which  obtains  in  the  natural 
world,  proves  that  we  are  not  to  refer  such  things  as  the 
actions  of  moral  agents  to  any  standard  founded  on  actual 
events,  but  that  we  necessarily  compare  them  with  our  own 
conception  of  Right.  On  the  stage,  when  virtue  is  repre- 
sented as  oppressed  and  vice  as  triumphant,  we  console  our- 
selves with  the  reflection,  that  the  piece  is  not  ended.  And 
just  so  in  real  life,  when  we  see  the  wicked  crowned  with 
prosperity  and  honor,  while  the  virtuous  are  persecuted, 
banished,  and  dying  under  a  thousand  torments,  we  cannot 
be  content  to  believe  that  all  is  over,  and  the  spectacle  is 
for  ever  closed. 

But  we  go  still  farther.  The  pleasure  we  experience  in 
beholding  the  ends  of  justice  answered  in  the  natural 
course  of  human  affairs,  even  when  accompanied  with  a 
strong  desire  that  such  may  continue  to  be  the  case,  would 
not  justify  us  in  inferring  the  existence  of  a  Being,  who,  by 
his  omnipotent  power,  should  conduct  all  cases  whatever  to 
the  same  result.  The  desire  for  what  is  pleasant  to  us,  is, 
in  many  instances,  merely  an  idle  wish,  as,  after  a  long 
continuance  of  stormy  weather,  every  one  desires  the  re- 
turn of  a  sunny  day.  From  a  mere  wish,  however  univer- 
sal and  strong,  it  would  be  presumptuous  to  infer  the  reality 

of  its  object.     We  must  seek  then  for  a  more  authoritative 

7# 


78  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

principle  on  which  to  build  up  this  important  article  of  faith. 
And  such  a  principle  we  find  in  the  moral  law,  the  dictates 
of  which,  far  from  being  placed  on  a  level  with  mere  de- 
sire, are  accompanied  with  such  a  consciousness  of  rightful 
dominion,  that  we  are  justified  in  attributing  to  them  actual 
power  of  causation.  In  our  own  nature,  the  idea  of  Right 
demands  constant  and  absolute  submission  to  its  laws,  and 
when  we  fail  to  render  this  obedience,  we  do  not  experience 
mere  regret,  the  feeling  which  accompanies  the  nonfulfill- 
ment of  an  idle  wish,  —  nor  even  are  we  merely  dissatisfied 
with  ourselves,  as  when  through  our  own  fault,  as  by  impru- 
dence or  neglect,  we  have  failed  to  accomplish  some  de- 
sired end, —  but  we  are  overwhelmed  with  remorse  and 
self-humiliation.  In  the  world  without  us,  this  law  speaks 
with  the  same  authority,  and  demands  that  the  natural 
course  of  events,  so  far  as  moral  beings  are  interested  in 
them,  should  be  conformed  to  its  own  standard.  But  here 
the  power  of  finhe  beings  is  at  an  end,  and  we  are  com- 
pelled to  refer  the  fulfillment  of  the  moral  requisition  to  a 
Being,  over  whom  physical  laws  have  no  power,  but  who 
governs  nature  by  his  will. 

A  science  of  theology  obtained  in  this  manner  becomes  at 
once  a  religion,  for  it  places  us  in  close  connexion  with  a 
God.  We  are  compelled  to  look  up  to  him,  as  the  Being 
who  knows  the  moral  worth  of  every  purpose  of  our  hearts, 
and  who  will  allot  to  us  that  measure  of  happiness,  which  is 
conformed  to  our  deserts.  Here,,  then,  is  religion,  founded 
on  the  idea  of  God  as  the  governor  of  nature  with  a  moral 
purpose,  and  in  us  on  the  wish  for  happiness,  which  does  not 
indeed  increase  the  obligations  of  duty,  but  which  enlarges 
and  strengthens  our  desire  to  conform  to  them. 

But  an  important  and  difficult  point  still  remains  to  be  de- 
cided. Since  it  is  only  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  our  moral 
nature,  that  we  have  been  obliged  to  assume  the  existence 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  79 

of  a  God  as  a  moral  governor  of  the  world,  his  will  must 
coincide  entirely  with  the  dictates  of  the  moral  law.  He 
can  demand  nothing  more  of  us  than  what  is  already  re- 
quired by  the  law  in  our  own  hearts,  without  ceasing  to  be 
that  ideal  Being,  whose  existence  is  the  only  one,  for  which 
we  have  discovered  any  rational  ground  of  belief.  Practi- 
cally, therefore,  it  is  indifferent  whether  our  duty  be  per- 
formed because  it  is  his  will,  or  because  Conscience  requires 
it ;  for  the  duty  in  both  cases  will  be  the  same.  Theoreti- 
cally, we  have  to  inquire,  of  what  use  is  it  to  add  the  force 
of  his  command  to  a  law,  which  by  itself  creates  a  perfect 
obligation,  and  the  contents  of  which  cannot  be  enlarged  by 
his  will,  because  already  shown  to  be  in  every  point  identi- 
cal with  that  will.  Is  there  any  obligation  to  obey  the  will 
of  God  as  such,  and  if  so,  on  what  grounds  does  it  rest  ? 

Guided  only  by  pure  reason,  independent  of  all  experi- 
ence, we  are  bound  to  answer  the  former  part  of  this  ques- 
tion in  the  negative.  Conscience  speaks  only  to  command, 
and  if  it  did  not  possess  original  and  absolute  authority,  we 
should  have  no  power  of  assuming  the  existence  of  a  God, 
and  no  means  of  ascertaining  his  will.  The  moral  law  is 
categorical  and  imperative,  requiring  obedience  because  it 
is  a  law,  and  not  by  any  reference  to  a  lawgiver.  To  go 
behind  the  moral  faculty,  in  search  of  an  authority  on 
which  to  establish  it,  would  be  to  take  away  its  distinctive 
character,  and  to  deprive  it  of  all  power  for  those  who 
could  not  find,  or  would  not  admit,  the  assumed  basis.  But, 
reasoning  a  posteriori  (from  experience),  cases  may  be 
found  in  •which  an  additional  sanction  for  the  law  would  be 
useful  in  strengthening  its  power  over  the  Will.  We  may 
know  to  a  certainty  what  our  duty  is,  and  still,  in  a  particu- 
lar instance,  resolve  to  break  through  the  general  rule  ;  — 
we  may  determine  this  once  to  do  wrong,  since  no  one  is 
answerable  for  the  fault  but  ourselves,  and  since  it  is  our 


80  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  I 

own  affair,  whether  we  act  rationally  or  not.  Such  a  want 
of  respect  for  the  law  is  founded,  indeed,  on  a  want  of  self- 
respect,  and  the  individual  must  be  degraded  in  his  own 
eyes.  But  if  the  duty  here  in  question  should  appear  as  a 
divine  command,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  if  it  should 
appear  to  the  agent  as  part  of  that  law,  which  also  in  all  its 
applications  is  the  law  of  God,  then  it  would  no  longer  de- 
pend on  one's  own  pleasure,  whether  or  not  he  would 
respect  it  in  this  instance.  A  failure  in  one  case  would 
constitute  not  merely  an  exception  to  the  rule,  but  a  sin 
against  the  whole  law,  and  against  the  authority  which  sup- 
ports it.  The  agent  would  be  answerable  for  a  want  of 
reverence  to  that  Being,  the  mere  thought  of  whom  must 
excite  in  us  the  deepest  awe.  Such  reflections  could  not 
increase  the  authority  of  the  moral  law  as  a  whole,  but 
might  heighten  our  respect  for  its  decisions  in  particular 
cases,  where  strong  temptations  were  arrayed  against  it. 
It  should  be  remarked,  however,  that  this  reference  to  the 
divine  will  must  be  founded  only  on  the  agreement  of  that 
will  with  the  moral  law,  that  is,  on  the  holiness  of  God,  for 
then  only  would  the  determination  be  morally  pure  and 
right.  If,  on  the  contrary,  it  proceeded  from  a  wish  to  pro- 
pitiate his  favor,  or  from  a  fear  of  his  justice,  our  obedience 
would  rest  not  on  reverence  for  the  Divine  Being,  but  on 
selfishness. 

That  inclinations  conflicting  with  duty  should  be  found 
in  all  finite  beings,  is  credible  enough,  for  such  is  our  con- 
ception of  what  is  finite  in  morals,  —  that,  namely,  which 
is  governed  by  other  laws,  as  well  as  by  the  law*  of  con- 
science. It  cannot  be  determined  how  far  or  how  surely 
this  contest  between  duty  and  inclination  weakens  the  for- 
mer, so  as  to  make  the  idea  of  divine  authority  necessary 
for  its  support.  But  we  cannot  refrain  from  feeling  a  far 
higher   respect  for   the    being,  whose  reverence  for  duty 


^Sb> 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  81 

needs  no  such  aid,  than  for  one  who  is  obliged  to  prop  his 
faihng  conscience  with  such  adventitious  means.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  must  be  allowed,  we  cannot  determine  wheth- 
er finite  beings  in  this  life  are  capable  of  a  degree  of  virtue, 
which  could  wholly  dispense  with  such  assistance. 

It  has  been  already  shown,  that  the  law  of  conscience 
agrees  in  every  particular  whh  the  divine  will.  It  remains 
to  be  determined,  whether  God  should  be  considered  as  the 
author  of  that  law ;  that  is,  whether  in  following  the  dic- 
tates of  conscience  we  by  so  doing  render  an  act  of  obedi- 
ence to  the  divine  command.  Or  the  problem  may  be 
expressed  as  follows  ;  —  have  we  any  reason  to  assume, 
that  the  moral  law  in  us  is  dependent  on  the  moral  law  in 
God.  The  question  relates  wholly  to  the  origin  of  the  law, 
and  not  to  its  contents  ;  since  the  supposition  that  He  is  its 
author,  when  taken  to  mean,  that  his  power  might  have 
altered  its  dictates,  would  be  to  make  right  subject  to  arbi- 
trary will,  or  in  other  words,  to  deny  that  absolute  right 
had  any  existence.  Technically  expressed,  the  question 
relates  to  the  form,  not  the  contents,  of  the  law. 

Religion  consists  in  obedience  to  the  moral  law,  hecause 
it  is  the  divine  command.  The  answer  to  the  question 
above  stated  must,  therefore,  contain  the  foundation  of 
religious  faith,  or,  in  the  language  of  Transcendentalism,  it 
must  show  how  such  a  thing  as  religion  is  possible.  Since 
the  moral  law  itself  tells  us  nothing  of  its  own  origin,  it  can 
only  be  rendered  certain  through  an  announcement  from 
God  himself,  that  obedience  to  this  law  is  his  command. 
Such  an  announcement  can  take  place  either  through  our  own 
consciousness,  or  through  some  fact  in  the  external  world. 
In  the  former  case,  we  shall  obtain  a  Natural  Religion,  in 
the  latter,  a  Revealed.  But  owing  to  the  silence  of  the 
moral  law  itself  on  the  subject,  the  announcement  in  the 


82 


former  case  can  be   made  only  indirectly,  while  on  the 
second  supposition,  it  must  be  in  every  sense  direct. 

Everywhere  in  the  external  world  we  perceive  order  and 
the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends.  But  amidst  this  variety 
of  ends,  reason  compels  us  to  assume  that  there  is  a  prin- 
cipal one,  to  which  all  the  others  are  subservient, —  that 
there  is  one  final  cause  of  the  existence  of  the  universe 
Our  moral  nature  declares,  that  this  one  end  can  be  noth 
ing  else  than  the  promotion  of  the  highest  moral  good 
which  is  the  only  principle  within  the  sphere  of  our  knowl 
edge,  that  is  absolute  and  unconditioned.  This  great  pur 
pose  can  relate  then  to  nothing  but  moral  beings,  since 
these  alone  are  capable  of  the  greatest  good.  We  are 
ourselves,  therefore,  as  moral  beings,  the  final  cause  of  the 
creation  of  all  things.  Moreover,  this  great  purpose  can 
only  be  entertained  by  a  being  whose  whole  practical 
power  is  determined  by  the  moral  law ;  therefore  God  is 
the  author  of  nature,  the  creator  of  the  world.  We  are 
ourselves  a  part  of  nature,  and  are  therefore  His  work,  at 
least  so  far  as  our  constitution  depends  on  physical  and 
organic  laws.  That  portion  of  our  mental  constitution,  the 
doctrine  of  which  constitutes  the  science  of  psychology,  is 
merely  physical,  or  a  part  of  nature,  and,  consequently, 
God  is  its  author.  Consciousness  belongs  to  this  part  of 
our  constitution,  and  it  is  only  through  this  faculty,  that  we 
become  aware  of  the  existence  of  a  moral  law  within  us. 
But,  if  ignorant  of  its  existence,  we  should  be  in  the  same 
state  as  if  it  did  not  exist  at  all ;  therefore.  He  is  to  be 
regarded  as  the  author  of  the  law,  through  whose  means 
alone  it  was  disclosed  to  us.  That  is,  God  is  the  founder 
of  the  moral  law  within  us,  which  is  the  point  that  was 
sought  to  be  proved. 

The  argument  has  been  presented  with  extreme  concise- 
ness, but  in  such  a  manner,  we  hope,  as  to  be  intelligible. 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  83 

Our  readers  may  perceive,  that  Fichte's  scheme  of  Natural 
Religion  is  exceedingly  simple.  It  may  all  be  summed  up 
as  follows.  God  is  a  lawgiver ;  the  dictates  of  conscience 
are  his  law,  and  the  whole  of  that  law ;  therefore,  perfect 
obedience  to  them  must  satisfy  all  his  demands.  The 
divine  announcement  explained  above  is  said  to  take  place 
through  consciousness^  because,  although  reference  is  had 
in  the  argument  to  the  external  world,  yet  the  idea  of  one 
final  cause  of  the  creation  is  given  to  us  by  pure  reason, 
and  because  the  moral  faculty  itself  constitutes  the  only 
point,  to  which  the  annunciation  is  directed. 

We  now  come  to  the  second  mode,  in  which  the  proposed 
problem  may  be  solved ;  that  is,  the  supposition,  that  the 
Deity  may  announce  through  some  fact  in  the  external 
worlds  that  He  is  the  author  of  the  moral  law  within  us. 
Such  an  announcement  would  constitute  a  revelation, 
properly  so  called,  and  the  system  of  religion  founded  upon 
it  may  be  far  more  comprehensive  than  the  natural  scheme 
already  explained,  since  it  is  at  least  conceivable,  that 
through  the  same  external  fact  may  be  communicated  to 
us,  not  merely  the  primal  truth  respecting  the  origin  of  the 
moral  law,  but  a  multitude  of  others,  relating  both  to  doc- 
trine and  practice.  It  may  be  necessary  to  remark  again, 
that  the  principles  to  be  laid  down  are  not  meant  to  be 
applied  specially  to  Christianity,  or  to  any  other  revelation 
in  particular,  but  to  all  possible  revelations. 

To  reveal  is  to  make  known.  By  the  very  idea  of  a 
revelation,  therefore,  it  is  supposed,  that  something  is  to  be 
made  known  to  us  which  we  did  not  know  before.  Now, 
all  knowledge  that  exists  a  priori,  —  in  other  words,  all 
knowledge  obtained  without  the  aid  of  experience,  —  such 
as  the  theorems  of  the  geometer  and  the  original  dictates 
of  conscience,  —  is  derived^  or  pointed  out;  it  cannot  be 
revealed.     All  propositions,  the  truth  of  which,  depending 


84  fichte's  exposition  of  kant: 

on  the  very  constitution  of  our  minds,  may  be  demon- 
strated, rest  on  the  evidence  of  that  demonstration,  and  can 
in  no  proper  sense  be  said  to  be  made  known  to  us.  Only 
historical  knowledge,  or  facts  perceived  by  sense,  can  be 
made  known,  since  the  evidence  here  rests  upon  authority  ; 
that  is,  upon  our  confidence  in  the  veracity  and  the  means 
of  observation  of  the  individual  who  discloses  them  to  us. 
And  farther,  it  is  not  the  perception  itself  that  is  revealed, 
but  the  fact  that  another  has  experienced  that  perception. 
If,  for  instance,  another  person  gives  me  a  rose  to  smell 
of,  he  does  not  reveal  to  me  the  truth  that  the  rose  smells 
sweet ;  I  find  that  out  myself.  But  if  there  be  no  means 
of  getting  the  flower  in  question,  and  he  assures  me  from 
his  previous  experience  that  the  odor  is  pleasant,  then  the 
fact  is  revealed  to  me,  since  I  receive  it  on  his  authority. 
Such  an  assurance  may  be  handed  from  one  person  to 
another  in  long  succession,  and  the  fact  revealed  is  then 
said  to  rest  upon  tradition. 

Again,  the  idea  of  a  revelation  presupposes  some  one 
who  is  the  author  of  it,  —  who  makes  known,  and  another 
to  whom  it  is  addressed.  The  fact,  also,  must  be  interim 
tionally  communicated,  the  design  being  to  cause  another 
person  to  know  some  particular  truth,  and  not  merely  to 
enable  him  to  gather  what  knowledge  he  may  from  ob- 
serving the  conduct  and  hearing  the  words  of  him  who  re- 
veals. Hence,  the  author  of  a  revelation  must  be  an  intel- 
ligent being,  his  purpose  in  informing  and  the  information 
that  is  received  being  related  to  each  other  as  moral  cause 
and  consequence. 

Besides  the  criteria  mentioned  above,  when  we  speak 
generally  of  a  revelation,  we  mean  one  that  is  addressed, 
mediately  at  least,  to  all  mankind,  and  of  which  the  Infinite 
Being  is  the  author.  To  such  a  one  the  remarks  that  fol- 
low will   be  restricted.     Of  the  physical  possibility  of  a 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  85 

revelation  of  this  sort  there  can  be  no  doubt.  God,  who 
is  the  author  of  nature,  and  consequently  is  not  bound  by 
physical  laws,  may  direct  some  occurrence  in  the  natural 
world  with  the  special  intention  of  communicating  thereby 
some  knowledge  to  his  creatures.  But  in  the  practical  ap- 
plication of  this  idea,  great  difficulties  arise. 

How  can  we  know  from  any  fact  in  the  external  world, 
that  it  was  specially  intended  by  the  Divine  Being  to  com- 
municate to  us  the  knowledge  of  some  truth  ?  It  should  be 
recollected,  that  we  do  not  consider  at  present  what  that 
truth  is ;  we  are  not  speaking  now  of  the  contents  of  a  reve- 
lation, but  only  of  its  form,  or  external  characteristics. 
Let  the  fact  itself  be  of  what  nature  it  may,  the  intention 
of  its  occurrence  cannot  be  perceived  ;  it  must  be  inferred. 
Such  an  inference  must  take  place  either  a  posteriori,  by 
reasoning  from  the  given  fact  as  an  effect  up  to  its  cause, 
or  a  priori,  by  arguing  from  the  known  cause  down  to  the 
effect.     We  first  inquire  into  the  former  proceeding. 

An  occurrence  is  observed  in  the  natural  world,  which 
cannot  be  explained  under  the  ordinary  laws  of  physics. 
For  instance,  I  have  a  perception,  for  which  no  ordinary 
physical  cause  can  be  assigned.  I  am  conscious  of  not 
having  produced  it  myself ;  but  am  I  therefore  justified  in 
rieferring  its  origin  directly  to  the  Supreme  Being  ?  Cer- 
tainly not.  Every  occurrence  is  preceded  by  a  succession 
of  causes  and  effects,  and  by  the  laws  of  thought  we  are 
compelled  to  assume,  that  there  must  be  somewhere  a  first 
link  to  the  chain.  But  we  are  not  justified  in  stopping  at 
any  determinate  point,  and  saying  here  is  the  first.  In 
case  not  even  the  proximate  cause  is  known,  the  length  of 
this  chain  is  wholly  indeterminate,  but  it  would  be  the 
height  of  rashness  to  infer,  that  consequently  there  were  no 
intermediate  agents,  and  thus  by  one  leap  to  attribute  the 
occurrence  to  the  first  cause.  Neither  will  the  considera- 
8 


86  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

tion  of  final  causes  help  us  out  of  this  difficulty.  The 
knowledge  of  an  important  truth  may  immediately  follow 
the  inexplicable  perception,  and  I  may  then  suppose,  not 
only  that  the  information  was  imparted  through  the  percep- 
tion, but  that  the  latter  was  intended  to  produce  the  former. 
Even  supposing,  what  is  still  wholly  inadmissible,  that  in 
this  case  I  rightly  assume  the  existence  of  intention  or  de- 
sign, which  would  justify  me  in  believing  that  the  cause  of 
the  perception  must  be  a  rational  being,  still  I  have  no 
reason  to  think,  that  this  rational  being  must  be  also  infi- 
nite. The  ancient  pagans  proceeded  more  rationally,  who, 
in  case  of  such  inexplicable  phenomena,  supposed  the 
agency  of  Genii  and  Daemons. 

The  reasoning  a  priori^  to  prove  that  a  given  fact  was 
intended  to  convey  a  revelation,  will  be  found  still  more 
defective.  Indeed,  a  simple  statement  of  the  course  to  be 
pursued  in  such  an  argument  is  sufficient  to  show  its  fal- 
lacy. Considerations  drawn  from  our  wholly  imperfect 
knowledge  of  the  divine  nature  must  be  applied  to  prove, 
that  God  must  have  resolved  to  make  an  annunciation  of 
Himself  to  his  creatures,  and  must  have  selected  the  fact 
in  question  as  the  only  medium  of  the  intended  revelation. 
Such  reasoning  is  wholly  presumptuous  and  impossible. 

Accordingly,  when  a  pretended  revelation  ofTers  itself  to 
our  notice,  we  must  renounce  all  hope  of  being  able  to 
judge  of  its  authenticity  by  any  external  tokens,  and  must 
look  solely  to  the  doctrine  revealed,  in  order,  if  possible, 
to  find  there  some  satisfactory  test  of  its  divine  origin. 
We  cannot  know  a  revelation  from  its  form ;  it  remains 
to  be  seen,  whether  we  can  judge  of  it  any  better  from  its 
contents.  But,  from  the  principles  already  established,  it 
would  at  first  appear  impossible  to  find  even  in  this  man- 
ner a  perfect  criterion  of  its  alleged  origin.  We  have  seen, 
that  the  divine  commands  can  embrace  nothing  beyond  the 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  87 

dictates  of  the  law  written  in  our  own  hearts,  and  that  noth- 
ing can  be  revealed  which  was  already  known.  It  would 
seem,  therefore,  that  a  revelation  can  have  no  contents  at 
all.  There  is  no  doctrine  for  it  to  announce  to  us,  no  ofRce 
for  it  to  perform.  Unless  this  difficulty  be  surmounted,  un- 
less we  show  some  object  to  be  attained  through  a  divine 
interposition  in  the  course  of  natural  events,  the  inquiry 
must  end  here,  and  the  possibility  of  any  revelation  what- 
ever must  be  given  up.  The  question  here  proposed,  — 
and  it  is  a  fundamental  one  in  the  present  investigation, — 
is,  whether  we  can  reasonably  suppose  men  to  be  placed 
under  such  circumstances,  that  they  would  have  any  need  of 
a  revelation. 

As  finite  beings,  we  are  subject  to  sensual  impulses  as 
well  as  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  and  between  these  op- 
posite principles  of  action  there  is  a  perpetual  struggle  for 
the  mastery.  The  result  in  each  case  will  depend  on  the 
particular  constitution  of  the  individual,  on  the  comparative 
strength  of  his  appetites,  and  on  the  habits  which  he  has 
formed  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  resisting  these  lower 
inclinations.  Now,  we  may  conceive  of  instances,  where 
the  law  of  conscience  has  wholly  lost  its  power,  and  the 
will  is  governed  only  by  impressions  received  from  sense. 
If  such  beings  retain  any  latent  capacity  of  moral  action, 
they  must  be  addressed  through  the  senses,  for  all  other  av- 
enues to  the  will  are  closed.  But  purely  moral  motives 
cannot  be  invested  with  a  sensual  garb.  The  internal  holi- 
ness of  what  is  good  and  right  is  an  object  of  thought  to  us 
only  as  a  pure  abstraction,  or  it  is  applicable  in  concrete 
only  to  the  Divine  Being.  In  this  latter  case,  it  does  as- 
sume a  form  through  which  it  may  be  manifested  to  sense, 
but  God  only  is  capable  of  conveying  to  men  this  idea  in 
such  a  manner.  Therefore,  He  must  announce  to  them  his 
existence  and  law,  if  at  all,  through  some  occurrence  in  the 


r.^a^ 


88  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

external  world.  But  since  no  ordinary  or  natural  fact  can 
be  for  such  persons  a  vehicle  of  moral  ideas,  the  annuncia- 
tion must  take  place  through  some  external  phenomenon, 
expressly  intended  and  determined  for  this  purpose.  Since 
He  must  wish  to  promote  the  greatest  possible  morality  in 
all  rational  beings  by  all  moral  means,  it  may  reasonably 
be  supposed,  that  He  will  make  use  of  this  means,  if  such 
beings  as  we  have  supposed  really  exist. 

Have  we  any  good  reason  to  believe  in  the  existence  of 
such  a  class  ?  To  answer  this  question,  we  must  retrace 
some  of  our  former  ground.  The  actual  constitution  of 
human  nature  requires  all  sensual  impulses  to  be  subject  to 
the  law  of  conscience.  Man  ought  to  uphold  th^e  rightful 
supremacy  of  this  law,  and  he  can,  since  every  obstacle  to 
such  subordination  of  the  lower  principle  is  merely  contin- 
gent ;  we  may  not  only  conceive  of  its  absence,  but  it  may 
really  cease  to  exist.  In  such  case,  the  moral  disposition 
of  the  individual  would  need  no  foreign  aid,  not  even  from 
the  thought  of  that  Being,  who  is  announced  to  him  through 
the  moral  law  itself  as  its  highest  executor.  He  could  not 
be  indifferent,  indeed,  towards  the  ever  present  observer 
and  judge  of  his  most  secret  thoughts,  but  he  would  have 
no  need  to  recollect  the  lawgiver,  in  order  to  facilitate  obe- 
dience to  the  law  itself  His  condition  would  be  one  of 
moral  perfection,  and  his  sentiments  towards  the  Supreme 
Being  would  constitute  what  may  be  called  a  religion  of 
Pure  Reason. 

The  next  lower  stage  of  moral  advancement  is  that, 
where  the  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak. 
Men  may  entertain  an  earnest  desire  to  obey  the  dictates  of 
the  moral  law,  but  the  appetites  and  passions  are  constantly 
contending  against  the  precepts  of  duty,  and  too  frequently 
wage  a  successful  war.  Still,  the  strong  desire  of  rectitude, 
which  we  suppose  to  exist  in  this  case,  must  be  founded  on 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  89 

a  really  lively  and  active  perception  of  duty,  which  yet  is 
too  weak  to  strive  against  the  force  of  habit,  and  the  indi- 
vidual must  consequently  lament  the  frequent  failure  of  his 
endeavors,  and  strive  to  find  some  means  of  fortifying  his 
conscience  against  the  constant  assaults  of  an  insidious  ene- 
my. But  there  are  no  moral  means  of  strengthening  one's 
convictions  of  duty,  except  those  considerations  which  tend 
to  strengthen  one's  faith  in  the  sublime  and  holy  character 
of  these  convictions.  And  what  thought  can  be  more  effect- 
ual for  this  purpose,  than  the  idea  of  a  Being  infinite  in 
holiness,  who  requires  of  us  obedience  to  the  moral  law, 
and  annexes  the  certainty  of  his  displeasure  "to  the  self- 
abasement  which  we  necessarily  feel  at  every  transgres- 
sion ?  Such  direct  reference  to  the  idea  of  God,  for  sup- 
port and  encouragement  in  the  fulfilment  of  duty,  is  the 
characteristic  feature  of  Natural  Religion. 

The  lowest  state  of  rational  beings  in  respect  to  morality 
is  that,  where  even  the  wish  to  recognise  and  follow  the 
dictates  of  conscience  has  either  died  out,  or  has  never  been 
developed  ;  and  here,  alas  !  is  the  only  sphere  for  a  Re- 
vealed Religion.  We  may  conceive  of  men  placed  either 
by  birth  or  subsequent  circumstances  in  such  a  condition, 
that  they  are  doomed  to  a  perpetual  struggle  v/ith  nature  to 
obtain  a  m.ere  subsistence,  —  who  consequently  must  di- 
rect all  their  thoughts  to  what  is  earthly  and  present,  and 
listen  to  no  other  law  but  that  of  necessity.  In  such  a 
state,  it  is  impossible  that  conscience  should  wake,  or  moral 
conceptions  be  formed.  It  is  true,  men  cannot  long  re- 
main in  this  primitive  condition.  Guided  by  experience, 
they  will  soon  form  rules  and  maxims  of  conduct,  which, 
however,  will  refer  to  no  ideal  standard,  but  remain  appli- 
cable only  within  the  sphere  of  experience.  Such  rules 
must  frequently  be  opposed  to  the  moral  law,  and  even,  in 
many  cases,  prevent  the  possible  recognition  of  such  a  law. 
8* 


90  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  I 

Of  the  primitive  state,  we  have  examples  in  the  condition 
of  many  savage  tribes,  and  for  instances  of  the  second 
class,  we  need  only  refer  to  the  maxims  and  policy  of  civ- 
ilized nations.  If  moral  ideas  are  ever  contemplated  by 
people  of  this  class,  they  will  be  applied  only  in  estimating 
the  actions  of  others,  but  never  as  a  guide  to  their  own 
conduct.  They  will  even  consider  another's  sacrifice  of 
his  personal  interest  from  a  conviction  of  duty  as  childish 
folly,  which  they  would"  be  ashamed  of  in  themselves.  How 
can  such  beings  ever  arrive  at  religion  ?  The  desire  for 
moral  improvement  must  exist,  before  they  can  seek  for 
religious  faith  as  a  means  of  strengthening  their  convictions 
of  duty,  and  without  seeking  for  such  a  faith,  they  assuredly 
can  never  find  it.  Ideas  of  what  is  supernatural  may  easily 
be  formed  by  them,  for  we  know  that  even  the  most  bar- 
barous nations  possess  these  ideas  in  such  number,  that 
they  people  earth,  sea,  and  air  with  their  attendant  spirits 
and  deities.  But  they  are  wholly  incapable  of  conceiving 
a  moral  governor  of  the  universe,  or  a  moral  design  in  the 
creation.  In  an  ethical  point  of  view,  they  generally  make 
their  deities  worse  than  themselves. 

The  two  forms  of  religion  which  we  have  already  con- 
sidered, that  of  Pure  Reason,  and  the  Natural  system,  are 
founded  upon  the  moral  law  within  us.  But  in  the  case 
now  presented,  the  first  office  of  religion  is  to  seek  out  and 
develope  this  law;  therefore,  the  foundation  of  the  faith 
must  be  found  in  some  other  principle  of  our  nature.  The 
divine  attribute  of  holiness  having  no  power  over  men  who 
are  destitute  of  moral  feeling,  their  attention  must  be  drawn 
to  His  greatness  and  power,  which  qualities  may  excite  in 
them  astonishment  and  awe,  through  their  sensual  nature 
alone.  The  effect  thus  produced  would  not  be  a  moral 
one,  but  the  authority  thus  forced  upon  their  attention  might 
subsequently  direct  them  to  the  only  pure  source  of  obliga- 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO   THEOLOGY.  91 

tion.  Men  may  be  urged  to  listen  to  the  divine  commands, 
when  they  are  impressed  with  a  sense  of  His  omnipotence  ; 
they  can  ohey  these  commands  only  through  the  capacity, 
developed  afterwards,  of  recognising  and  appreciatino-  His 
holiness.  Only  in  the  latter  case,  does  obedience  become 
a  ground  of  moral  desert ;  for  if  it  followed  in  the  former, 
having  its  source  only  in  fear  of  the  indignation,  or  hope  of 
the  favor,  of  an  Almighty  Being,  it  would  be  entirely  self- 
ish. Whether  the  purity  of  the  motive  would  not  be  injur- 
ed by  the  sensual  character  of  the  means  through  which  it 
is  conveyed,  whether  the  fear  of  punishment  or  the  hope  of 
reward  would  not  have  more  effect  on  the  obedience  pro- 
duced through  a  revelation,  than  reverence  for  the  holiness 
of  the  lawgiver,  is  no  question  for  us  to  decide.  We  have 
only  to  show  that,  abstractly  speaking,  this  result  is  not 
necessary;  and,  generally,  it  ought  not  to  happen,  if  the 
religious  frame  of  mind  thus  produced  is  pure,  and  not 
merely  a  more  refined  selfishness.  Since  it  cannot  be 
shown  how  far,  or  wherefore,  the  natural  law  stands  in 
need  of  a  support  from  revelation,  —  since  undoubtedly 
there  is  a  moral  impulse  within  us  to  respect  a  rational 
being  the  more,  according  as  the  idea  of  absolute  right 
within  him  has  less  need  of  extraneous  aid,  —  and  since 
the  aid  when  obtained  is  perpetually  liable  to  degenerate, 
and  produce  obedience  only  from  a  selfish  regard  to  loss  or 
gain  in  a  future  life,  we  cannot  deny  that  it  would  be  far 
more  honorable  to  men,  if  their  moral  strength  required  no 
other  confirmation,  than  what  is  afforded  by  Natural  Reli- 
gion. 

The  question  now  offers  itself,  in  what  manner  can  the 
authority  and  influence  of  moral  principle  be  reestablished 
among  those  men,  who  have  lost  all  sense  of  duty  incum- 
bent on  themselves,  and  have  ceased  to  respect  rectitude  of 
conduct  in  others.     One  or  more  persons  may  be  inspired 


92 


to  attempt  the  moral  renovation  of  such  a  community,  and, 
in  order  to  obtain  a  hearing,  may  assume  the  character 
of  special  messengers  from  God.  But  for  an  audience 
through  moral  blindness  rendered  incapable  of  inferring 
the  divine  origin  of  a  mission  from  the  purity  of  the  doc- 
trine taught,  this  assumption  of  special  authority  must  be 
supported  by  some  startling  phenomenon  in  the  outward 
world,  the  cause  of  which,  inexplicable  on  other  grounds, 
must  be  referred  at  the  time  to  the  direct  agency  of  Om- 
nipotence. Even  their  sensual  nature  would  be  impelled 
to  listen  to  a  doctrine,  which  should  be  offered  to  them 
in  connexion  with  such  a  manifestation  of  divine  power. 
Their  attention  being  thus  gained,  the  instruction  would 
awaken  the  latent  powers  of  conscience,  and  a  sense  of 
moral  obligation  would  be  established,  that  would  stand  in 
future  by  its  own  strength,  without  need  of  farther  recur- 
rence to  the  supposed  miraculous  event. 

With  regard  to  the  physical  occurrence  itself,  which  has 
thus  been  used  to  authenticate  a  revelation,  two  supposi- 
tions are  possible.  The  Divine  Being  may,  at  the  time  of 
the  creation,  have  interwoven  the  cause  of  this  particular 
event  into  the  plan  of  the  universe,  so  that,  without  any 
change  in  the  physical  laws  once  established,  without  any 
alteration  of  his  original  purpose,  the  phenomenon  would 
appear  when  it  was  needed,  and  would  produce  the  desired 
effect ;  or,  the  succession  of  natural  causes  and  effects 
being  once  established,  divine  power  may  suspend  their 
operation  in  a  particular  case,  and  cause  an  event  to  follow 
different  from  what  would  have  happened,  but  for  this 
special  exertion  of  agency.  In  the  former  case,  the  mir- 
acle would  only  be  an  apparent  one,  since  it  is  conceivable, 
that  an  ultimate  moral  purpose  was  connected  with  the 
institution  of  all  physical  laws.  On  the  latter  supposition 
only,  it  would  be  a  real  miracle.     Here,  however,  we  could 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  93 

not  determine  at  what  link  the  chain  had  been  broken,  — 
whether  the  cause  immediately  preceding  the  event  in 
question,  or  one  placed  much  further  back,  had  been  sus- 
pended from  its  natural  operation.  If  our  knowledge  of 
physical  laws  were  sufficient,  we  might  trace  back  the  ob- 
served phenomenon  through  many  steps,  explaining  each 
event  by  the  physical  agency  of  the  one  immediately  pre- 
ceding ;  and  wherever  we  were  obliged  to  stop,  the  rational 
conclusion  would  be,  not  that  supernatural  power  here  be- 
gan to  be  exerted,  but  that  our  previous  experience  here 
ceased  to  be  an  adequate  guide.  Therefore,  the  certain  re- 
cognition of  a  miracle  as  such,  is  impossible. 

It  is  enough  for  the  required  effect,  if  men  believe  at 
the  time,  that  the  event  is  miraculous.  Since  the  object 
is  only  to  excite  their  astonishment  and  admiration,  so  that 
they  may  be  guided  afterwards  to  a  development  of  the 
moral  law  within  them,  should  the  phenomenon  at  a  future 
time  be  shown  to  be  explicable  on  natural  principles,  no 
possible  injury  could  result.  Men  would  lose  the  evidence 
of  the  revelation  only  when  they  had  ceased  to  stand  in 
need  of  the  revelation  itself,  —  when  conscience,  reinstated 
in  its  office,  either  alone,  or  with  the  aid  of  natural  re- 
ligion, could  enforce  obedience  to  its  own  commands.  If 
Columbus,  for  instance,  had  made  use  of  his  pretended 
power  of  darkening  the  moon  to  persuade  the  natives  of 
Hispaniola  that  he  had  a  mission  from  God  unto  them,  and 
had  applied  the  authority  thus  obtained  to  develope  the 
moral  principle  in  their  own  hearts,  no  subsequent  discove- 
ry on  their  part  of  the  physical  causes  of  an  eclipse  could 
shake  their  confidence  in  the  faith  thus  established. 

The  result  of  this  inquiry,  Fichte  maintains,  is  to  silence 
both  the  dogmatic  defender  and  the  obstinate  opponent  of  a 
belief  in  outward  events  produced  by  supernatural  agency. 
In  reference  to  any  supposed  instance,  the  former  cannot 


94  fichte's  exposition  of  kant: 

declare,  that  it  is  inexplicable  from  physical  causes,  and 
therefore  supernatural,  because  it  may  be  only  his  knowl- 
edge that  is  at  fault.  Nor  is  the  latter  entitled  to  say,  that 
because  such  a  phenomenon  may  be  traced  to  a  natural 
cause,  it  cannot  be  used  in  attestation  of  a  revealed  faith, 
for  it  may  have  been  interwoven  with  a  moral  purpose  into 
the  first  plan  of  creation,  and  the  effect  it  has  produced 
may  have  been  intended  from  the  beginning. 

We  have  thus  far  determined  only  the  external  charac- 
teristics of  a  revelation,  and  the  circumstances  under  which, 
if  at  all,  it  must  take  place.  We  have  seen,  that  although 
a  rule  of  conduct  announced  as  coming  directly  from  God 
must  be  in  every  respect  consentaneous  with  the  moral 
law,  revelation  has  still  a  work  to  perform  ;  namely,  to  de- 
velope  anew  the  power  of  conscience  in  the  hearts  of  those 
men,  with  whom  this  faculty  had  lost  all  its  original  and 
rightful  dominion.  Whatever  may  be  the  answer,  there- 
fore to  the  question  which  follows  next  in  our  inquiry,  it 
cannot  affect  the  possibility  of  a  revelation,  but  will  tend 
merely  to  regulate  our  expectations  as  to  the  matter  to  be 
divulged.  This  question  is,  whether  we  can  expect  from  a 
revelation  any  precepts  or  information,  which  our  natural 
reason  and  conscience  might  not  have  obtained  without  any 
supernatural  aid.  Can  any  additional  instruction,  any  en- 
largement of  our  knowledge  be  derived  from  this  source  ? 
Fichte  answers  this  question  in  the  negative,  and  contends 
that  such  an  increase  of  knowledge  would  be  destructive  to 
moral  principle,  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things,  and 
contradicts  the  very  idea  of  a  revelation. 

It  has  been  shown,  that  the  doctrines  of  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  are  necessary  postulates  of  the  moral  law  within  us. 
In  regard  to  the  naked  fact  in  these  three  instances,  there- 
fore, we  have  nothing  to  learn.     Do  we  desire  in  each  case 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  95 

to  possess  more  comprehensive  and  definite  knowledge  ? 
In  respect  to  the  first  instance,  could  we  penetrate  into  the 
mysterious  connexion  between  moral  freedom  and  physical 
necessity,  and  still  have  no  power  to  govern  the  laws  of  na- 
ture by  our  own  free  will,  the  result  could  not  aid  our  moral 
advancement ;  and  if  we  received  this  power,  we  should 
merely  cease  to  be  finite  beings,  and  become  gods.  Do  we 
wish  to  have  more  definite  conceptions  of  God,  —  to  know 
the  essence  of  the  divine  nature?  Such  knowledge,  in- 
stead of  aiding,  would  wholly  prevent  the  exercise  of  pure 
morality.  The  full  conception  of  an  Infinite  Being,  present 
in  all  his  majesty  to  our  eyes,  would  compel  obedience. 
Sensual  propensities  would  be  silenced,  temptation  would  be 
done  away,  there  would  be  no  merit  in  resistance,  and  we 
should  become  moral  machines.  Finally,  do  we  wish  to 
know  all  the  circumstances  of  our  future  existence?  If 
gratified  in  this  particular,  we  should  lose  all  interest  in  the 
present  life,  and  the  splendor  of  the  recompense  to  come 
would  act  so  powerfully  on  the  will,  that  we  could  not  fail 
in  obedience,  and  therefore  should  be  deprived  at  once  of 
freedom,  merit,  and  self-respect. 

It  may  be  affirmed,  also,  that  the  supposition  of  such  an 
increase  of  knowledge  is  plainly  repugnant  to  the  laws  of 
our  finite  constitution,  and  therefore  is  impossible  in  the  na- 
ture of  things.  Any  instruction  given  by  revelation  must 
conform  to  our  capacity  for  knowledge,  and  be  capable  of 
standing  under  our  laws  of  thought.  These  laws  cannot 
embrace  what  is  infinite  and  supernatural,  otherwise  than 
by  levelling  it  down  to  what  is  physical  and  common.  The 
teachings  of  revelation,  therefore,  would  be  either  wholly- 
incomprehensible,  or  be  so  changed  in  the  mind  of  the  re- 
cipient, as  no  longer  in  any  way  to  correspond  to  the  truth. 

Lastly,  the  only  possible  conception  of  a  revelation  con- 
tradicts the  opinion,  that  through  such  means  our  sphere  of 


96  fichte's  exposition  of  kant  : 

knowledge  may  be  increased.  The  doctrine  revealed,  so 
far  as  it  does  not  rest  on  its  conformity  with  the  law  of  con- 
science, must  be  wholly  supported  on  divine  authority.  But 
beyond  this  conformity,  there  is  no  way  to  recognise  the  di- 
vine authority  of  the  revelation  itself,  since  an  examination 
of  the  external  tokens  has  shown,  that  these  can  afford  no 
sufficient  ground  of  belief.  Where  the  exact  agreement 
between  the  moral  law  and  the  law  announced  to  us  through 
extraordinary  means  ceases  to  exist,  the  basis  of  our  con- 
viction also  falls  away,  and  the  pretended  teachings,  being 
such  as  cannot  be  derived  from  the  moral  principle  alone, 
must  be  rejected,  as  forming  no  part  of  the  revelation  which 
we  are  bound  to  believe. 

It  is,  therefore,  neither  theoretically  nor  morally  possible, 
that  a  revelation  should  teach  us  any  thing  which  we  might 
not  have  known  without  its  aid.  In  respect  to  knowledge, 
it  leaves  men  precisely  where  it  found  them ;  it  gives  not  a 
precept,  a  hope,  nor  a  confirmation,  that  we  may  not  ob- 
tain by  the  simple  development  of  a  principle,  which  be- 
longs to  all  rational  beings.  The  moral  law  and  its  postu- 
lates must  form  its  whole  contents.  In  relation  to  the 
means  and  helps  of  moral  progress,  revelation  may  point 
out  such  as  are  most  effective,  and  recommend  them  to  use. 
Yet  such  expedients  not  having  importance  in  themselves  as 
ends,  they  can  relate  only  to  those  persons  who  have  need 
of  them,  and  must  not  be  represented  as  of  universal  obli- 
gation, nor  be  enunciated  as  positive  commands.  The  ex- 
ercise of  prayer,  for  instance,  whether  it  be  only  earnest 
contemplation  of  the  Deity,  or  supplication,  or  grateful  ac- 
knowledgment, must  act  powerfully  with  many  in  silencing 
the  voice  of  sensual  desire,  and  quickening  convictions  of 
duty.  But  the  cold  and  calm  reasoner,  the  man  of  little 
imagination  and  cold  enthusiasm,  —  and  there  are  many 
such, —  how  can  he  enter  upon  this  earnest  communication 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  97 

with  Divine  Providence,  knowing  that  he  is  acquainted  with 
all  the  wants,  and  must  satisfy  all  the  rational  desires  of  his 
creatures,  in  strict  conformity  with  their  merits.  Such  aids 
are  to  be  represented  as  they  really  are,  as  means,  and  not 
as  duties  in  themselves.  Every  revelation,  which  requires 
the  use  of  them  as  of  equal  obligation  with  the  dictates  of 
the  moral  law,  is  surely  not  from  God. 

It  may  be  asked  farther,  what  results  we  are  to  expect 
from  the  use  of  such  means ;  whether  we  are  to  look  only 
for  the  ordinary  effects,  that  follow  by  usual  and  natural 
laws,  or  may  we  hope  that  our  moral  nature  will  thereby 
be  determined  by  special  and  extraordinary  power,  which 
will  be  exercised  on  occasion  of  the  use  of  these  means, 
although  not  necessarily  connected  with  such  use,  as  an 
effect  is  with  its  cause.  The  latter  supposition  evidently 
contradicts  the  law  of  conscience,  and  would  be  destructive 
of  all  morality.  The  determinations  of  the  will,  which  do 
not  take  place  through  our  own  free  choice,  but  through 
extraneous  and  supernatural  means,  cannot  form  any 
ground  of  desert.  In  this  case  we  become  mere  machines, 
and  the  action,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  is  a  mere  nullity. 
Every  religion,  therefore,  which  promises  such  extraordi- 
nary aid  or  special  grace,  by  so  doing  contradicts  the  moral 
law,  and  cannot  be  of  divine  origin. 

In  the  manner  in  which  a  doctrine  claiming  to  be  of 
divine  authority  is  presented  to  our  notice,  we  may  find 
some  tests  of  its  authenticity.  Revelation  is  specially  ad- 
dressed, as  above  shown,  to  men,  who,  acknowledging  no 
law  for  their  own  conduct,  still  judge  the  actions  of  others 
by  reference  to  a  moral  standard.  The  wrongfulness  and 
inconsistency  of  this  proceeding  may  be  made  most  plain 
by  examples.  Instruction  addressed  to  such  men  will 
naturally  clothe  itself  in  narrations  and  apologues ;  in  such 
a  way,  however,  that  only  actions  which  are  morally  pure 
9 


UO  FICHTE  S    EXPOSITION    OF    KANT: 

shall  be  held  up  as  examples  for  imitation,  and  that  no 
conclusion  of  doubtful  or  ambiguous  tendency  may  be 
drawn  from  the  given  instance.  Most  important  of  all  is 
the  manner  in  which  the  three  great  postulates  of  the  moral 
law,  —  God,  freedom,  and  immortality,  —  are  represented. 
In  our  conception  of  the  first,  there  is  a  perpetual  struggle 
of  pure  reason  against  the  tendency  to  impart  a  subjective 
and  material  character  to  all  our  notions.  Be  it  ever  so 
clearly  proved,  that  the  conditions  of  time  and  space  do  not 
apply  to  the  Supreme  Being,  in  the  attempt  to  place  our- 
selves in  more  direct  communication  with  Him,  we  invol- 
untarily apply  these  modifications.  Revelation  is  addressed 
not  only  to  human  beings,  but  to  a  class  of  them  in  whom 
the  ideas  of  sense  predominate.  Its  object  is  the  promotion 
of  pure  morality,  but  this  end  must  be  pursued  by  means 
adapted  to  the  moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  its  recipi- 
ents. Our  imperfect  conceptive  faculty,  in  its  best  estate, 
embraces  with  difficulty  the  abstract  idea  of  absolute  holi- 
ness and  perfection,  and  for  men  of  inferior  moral  power 
and  little  cultivation,  this  idea  must  be  modified  with  com- 
paratively sensual  and  really  debasing  attributes,  before  it 
can  be  brought  within  their  grasp.  The  Deity  must  be 
represented  as  actually  hearing  prayer,  and  moved  to  com- 
passion, as  affected  with  indignation,  sympathy,  and  regret, 
—  in  a  word,  as  subject  to  like  passions  with  ourselves. 
But  since  these  qualities  are  evidently  at  variance  with  the 
idea  of  an  unchangeable,  omniscient,  and  all-holy  Being, 
revelation  must  refrain  from  announcing  them  as  absolute 
truth.  In  technical  language,  they  must  have  subjective, 
though  not  objective,  validity.  Similar  remarks  may  be 
applied  to  the  common  notions  respecting  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  and  a  future  retribution. 

Thus  far  we  have  shown,  that  a  revelation  is  conceivable 
and  possible  under  certain  circumstances.     We  have  deter- 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  99 

mined  certain  criteria,  by  which  a  doctrine  that  claims 
divine  origin  must  be  judged.  If  these  tests  are  found 
wanting,  the  pretended  revelation  must  be  rejected.  But 
the  presence  of  one  or  all  of  them  will  not  justify  us  in 
assuming,  that  the  doctrine  must  be  from  God.  They 
make  out  a  case  of  possibility,  not  of  certainty.  In  a  given 
instance,  certain  dogmas  are  presented  to  our  notice, 
alleged  to  be  authenticated  as  divine  by  some  remarkable 
phenomenon  in  the  external  world,  which  could  not  have 
occurred  without  divine  agency.  It  remains  to  be  deter- 
mined, whether  the  idea  of  a  revelation,  which  we  have 
now  examined  and  shown  to  be  possible,  is  realized  in  this 
particular  instance.  All  the  external  and  internal  conditions 
which  we  have  laid  down,  may  be  completely  fulfilled. 
At  the  given  time  and  place,  men  may  generally  be  re- 
duced to  the  lowest  pitch  of  moral  degradation,  and  be  so 
absorbed  in  sensual  pursuits,  as  to  be  wholly  incapable  of 
rising  from  this  state  by  any  effort  of  their  own.  Certain 
benevolent  persons,  wishing  to  improve  their  condition, 
may  preach  to  them  a  doctrine  of  pure  morality,  and  may 
endeavor  to  gain  a  hearing  for  their  exhortations,  by  repre- 
senting this  doctrine  as  coming  directly  from  God,  and 
referring  in  proof  of  this  assertion  to  some  remarkable 
phenomenon  in  the  outer  world,  believed  to  be  inexplicable 
by  ordinary  physical  laws.  All  this  is  very  conceivable, 
on  the  supposition  that  the  Deity  has  no  direct  agency 
whatever  in  the  matter.  The  pretended  messengers,  in  the 
exaltation  of  their  piety,  may  have  deceived  themselves, 
believing  that  they  had  received  a  divine  mission,  when 
they  had  only  followed  the  impulses  of  an  overheated 
imagination.  Or,  they  may  be  hypocrites  and  deceivers, 
who  wish  to  obtain  for  selfish  purposes  the  authority  and 
influence  that  attach  to  the  character  of  divine  agents.  The 
external   phenomenon,  held   to  be    inexplicable,   may   be 


100  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  ! 

shown,  by  some  farther  discovery  in  science,  to  be  perfect- 
ly conformable  to  other  and  ordinary  workings  of  nature. 
To  show  that  a  revelation  has  actually  occurred,  we  must 
go  back  to  its  alleged  source,  and  prove  from  the  mere 
idea  of  God,  that  he  must  have  determined  to  make  an  an- 
nunciation of  himself  at  this  time,  and  must  have  chosen 
the  particular  men  and  events  in  question,  as  the  only  proper 
agents  for  executing  his  intention.  The  attempt  to  found 
an  argument  of  this  sort  on  our  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
Supreme  Being  is  evidently  presumptuous  and  absurd.  The 
argument  a  posteriori,  by  reasoning  from  the  external  phe- 
nomenon up  to  the  divine  intention,  has  already  been  exam- 
ined and  shown  to  be  fallacious. 

In  any  given  case,  therefore,  we  can  have  no  means  of 
affirming,  that  a  revelation  must  have  occurred.  Belief  in 
a  given  revelation  is  possible,  but  a  mere  wish  is  the  only 
ground  of  support  for  this  belief  The  law  of  conscience 
absolutely  requires  us  to  will  the  promotion  of  the  greatest 
moral  good,  and,  consequently,  we  must  desire  that  means 
may  be  found  to  subserve  this  end.  In  the  supposed  case, 
great  moral  good  would  be  effected  by  the  reality  of  the 
supposed  revelation,  and  therefore  we  must  wish,  that  its 
claims  may  be  supported.  As  this  desire  is  founded  on  the 
law  of  absolute  right,  and  cannot,  as  before  shown,  be  op- 
posed by  any  merely  theoretical  reasoning,  because  the 
subject  wholly  transcends  the  sphere  of  mere  intellect,  it 
becomes  a  sufficient  ground  of  faith,  provided  it  be  shown 
that  the  assumption  can  lead  to  no  fatal  error.  That  we 
are  safe  in  this  respect  appears  at  once  from  the  considera- 
tion, that  the  original  mistake,  if  there  be  one,  can  never 
be  made  evident  to  us  in  time,  and  that,  by  assuming  the 
authenticity  of  the  doctrine  which  claims  to  come  from 
God,  we  facilitate  obedience  to  the  moral  law,  while  by  the 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  101 

opposite  course,  we  render  such  obedience  more  difficult, 
if  not  impossible. 

Such  is  the  result  of  this  inquiry  into  the  possibility  of  a 
divine  revelation,  —  an  inquiry  founded  and  conducted  on 
principles  of  Pure   Reason,  and  therefore,  in  the  opinion  of 
its  author,  leading  to  a  conclusion  which  is  absolutely  cer- 
tain and  sufficient.     Fichte  claims   the   merit,  through  his 
"Critique,"  of  having  removed  all  difficulties  from  the  gen- 
eral theory  of  a  revelation,  and  of  having  silenced  all  future 
contention  on  the  subject.     The   assumption  of  infallibility, 
as  we  have   seen,  is  characteristic  of  the   Transcendental 
philosophy ;  but  the  high  pretensions  advanced  in  this  in- 
stance belong  not  more  to  the  mode  of  inquiry,  than  to  the 
temperament  of  the   man.     The   countrymen  and  contem- 
poraries of  Fichte  were  all  distinguished  for  the  boldness 
of  their  philosophical  inquiries ;  but  he  carried  away  the 
palm  by  a  Titanlike  audacity  of  speculation,  which  seemed 
to  aim  at  scaling  the  heavens  and  prescribing  limits  to  Om- 
nipotence.    But  this  fearlessness  of  character  was  not  his 
only,  or  highest  merit  as  a  philosopher.     Our  sketch  of  this 
treatise  must  be   feeble   indeed,  if  it  fails  to  convey  some 
notion   of  the  severe  logic,  and  admirable  arrangement, 
brevity,  and  clearness  of  the  original.     The  object  of  inqui- 
ry is  kept  always  in  view,  and  the  conduct  of  the  argument 
leading  towards  it,  in  closeness  and  accuracy  of  reasoning, 
and  rigid  exclusion  of  all  extraneous  matter,  resembles  the 
successive  deductions  of  the  geometer.     The   style  is  dry, 
as  the  nature  of  the  subject  demands,  but  in  treating  of  the 
ethical   theory,  on  which  the  whole   fabric  of  the   essay  is 
founded,  and  especially  in   developing  his  pure  and   lofty 
conception  of  "  absolute  right,"  the  writer  kindles  with  his 
theme,  and  the  argumentation,   though  still   severe,  swells 
into  chaste   and  impressive  eloquence.     His  exposition  of 
9* 


102  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  I 

the  moral  law  may  be  compared  in  point  of  grandeur  and 
severity  with  the  noblest  conceptions  of  the  ancient  Stoics  ; 
with  whom,  indeed,  more  properly  than  with  any  of  the 
moderns,  he  deserves  to  be  classed  as  a  philosopher.  Clear- 
sighted in  perceiving  the  extent  and  rightful  authority  of  the 
demands  of  conscience,  cold  and  inflexible  himself  in  his 
views  of  duty,  he  rejected  almost  with  scorn  the  idea  of  an 
additional  sanction  and  of  helps  to  obedience  ;  so  that  at  a 
later  period  of  his  life,  when  his  opinions  were  fully  matur- 
ed, he  became  subject  to  a  well  founded  charge  of  atheism. 
The  main  argument  of  the  work  before  us  is  evidently 
founded  on  the  position,  that,  so  far  as  duty  is  concerned, 
man  is  by  virtue  of  his  original  constitution  an  independent 
and  self-sufhcient  being,  and  therefore  any  communication 
with,  or  reliance  upon,  divine  power  for  the  sake  of  aid  and 
consolation,  is  unnecessary,  improper,  and  derogatory  to  his 
own  dignity.  For  our  own  part,  we  must  consider  such 
notions  as  unfounded  and  impious,  though  it  must  be  ac- 
knowledged, that  they  come  from  a  much  purer  source 
than  the  fountain,  which  usually  gives  rise  to  irreligious 
opinions. 

The  real,  though  not  the  avowed  tendency  of  the  pres- 
ent treatise  is  to  show,  that  if  the  revealed  doctrine  con- 
tains any  thing  more  than  the  law  written  in  our  own  hearts, 
it  cannot  be  of  divine  origin ;  if  it  be  perfectly  coincident 
with  that  law,  it  is  useless,  and  can  in  no  proper  sense  be 
called  a  revelation.  This  appears  both  from  the  narrow- 
ness of  the  office  assigned  to  revelation,  it  being  addressed 
only  to  those  who  are  not  conscious  of  any  desire  to  comply 
with  the  demands  of  conscience,  and  its  usefulness  even  to 
them  ceasing  when  the  moral  sense  is  once  awakened ;  and 
from  the  alleged  impossibility  of  finding  any  other  ground 
of  faith  than  a  mere  desire,  that  its  claim  to  a  divine  origin 
may  be  supported.     Hence  the  influence  of  this  work,  and 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED   TO    THEOLOGY.  103 

of  the  philosophy  on  which  it  is  founded,  upon  the  rise  and 
progress  of  German  Rationalism  in  its  various  forms.  The 
common  principle,  lying  at  the  bottom  of  all  these  Rational 
systems,  is,  that  the  dictates  of  conscience  must  comprise 
the  whole  duty  of  man,  and  that  a  proper  cultivation  of  this 
faculty  supplies  a  sufficient  ground  of  obedience,  and  does 
away  all  necessity  for  divine  interference,  either  to  give  ad- 
ditional sanction  to  the  law  itself,  or  to  supply  stronger  mo- 
tives for  respecting  it  as  a  rule  of  action.  In  these  systems, 
as  in  the  present  "  Critique,"  the  rejection  of  the  argument 
from  miracles  is  but  one  feature  of  a  theory,  the  object  of 
which  is  to  disprove  revelation  itself,  by  showing  that  it  is 
unnecessary.  Indeed,  a  revelation  is  in  itself  a  miracle,  in 
the  only  proper  and  intelligible  definition  that  can  be  given 
to  the  word.  It  is  so  used  in  the  work  before  us,  where  the 
term  is  not  restricted  to  Christianity,  but  applied  in  its 
widest  signification  to  all  acts,  by  which  the  Deity  directly 
makes  known  his  will  to  men.  Fichte  defines  a  revelation 
to  be  an  annunciation  from  God,  authenticated  by  some  ex- 
traordinary event  in  the  external  world,  that  the  moral  law 
of  our  own  hearts  is  his  law,  and  obedience  to  it  is  his 
command. 

It  is  true,  that  some  Rationalists  conceal  from  others,  and 
probably  even  from  themselves,  the  fact,  that  they  are  de- 
nying all  revelation,  by  assuming  that  conscience,  —  in 
Transcendental  language,  the  pure  practical  reason,  —  is  in 
itself  a  revelation.  They  talk  of  a  repeated  and  continued 
revelation  in  our  own  hearts,  —  of  the  folly  of  relying  upon 
a  distant  revelation,  which  ceased  at  a  remote  period,  and 
therefore  depends  now  upon  historical  evidence,  —  of  every 
man  being  a  revelation  unto  himself,  and  the  like.  All  this 
may  be  very  well,  if  intended  only  to  enhance  the  power 
and  authority  of  conscience,  and  the  importance  of  cultiva- 
ting the  moral  faculty.     But  if  meant  to  cover  up  the  fact, 


104  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  I 

that  they  are  all  the  time  denying  a  Christian  revelation, 
properly  so  called,  it  is  a  gross  fallacy.  Upon  such  per- 
sons we  press  the  consideration  of  Fichte's  argument,  as 
perfectly  unanswerable.  To  reveal  is  to  make  known,  and 
therefore,  whatever  was  known  before,  or  what  is  necessa- 
rily deduced  from  the  very  constitution  of  our  moral  and 
intellectual  nature,  cannot  be  the  object  of  a  revelation. 
The  law  of  conscience  exists,  and  we  may  conceive  of  a 
high  degree  of  moral  advancement  being  attained,  before  a 
religion  is  known  or  thought  of..  But  this  law  must  be  re- 
cognised as  a  divine  command,  before  even  Natural  Religion 
begins,  and  before  an  act  of  Revealed  Religion,  —  if  we 
may  so  speak,  —  can  be  performed,  that  recognition  must 
take  place  on  account  of  a  direct  and  special  annunciation, 
authenticated  by  a  miracle,  from  the  Deity.  In  opposition 
to  this  plain  and  obvious  view  of  the  matter,  to  set  up  the 
supremacy  of  conscience,  to  consider  strict  attention  to  its 
dictates  as  being  in  itself  the  acknowledgment  of  a  revela- 
tion, and  a  strict  compliance  with  them  as  constituting  a  re- 
ligious life,  is  merely  playing  with  words. 

The  history  of  ethical  philosophy  during  the  past  fifty 
years,  especially  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  presents  a 
singular  instance  of  the  reaction  of  opinion.  Down  nearly 
to  the  close  of  the  last  century,  what  is  called  the  selfish 
system  in  morals,  and  the  sensual  theory  respecting  the  ori- 
gin of  knowledge,  had  almost  universal  currency  wherever 
a  taste  for  speculative  philosophy  existed.  England,  indeed, 
was  an  exception,  for  there  the  writings  of  Butler,  Hume, 
and  Hutcheson,  had  early  laid  the  foundation  of  a  purer 
theory  of  ethics.  But  the  works  of  these  eminent  men 
were  little  known  across  the  channel,  and  in  France,  the 
writings  of  the  Encyclopedists,  of  Condillac  and  Cabanis, 
constituted  the  popular  philosophy  of  the  day.  This  coun- 
try was   then   the   literary  centre  of  Europe,  and  French 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  105 

sentiments  in  politics,  literature,  and  philosophy,  became 
widely  known  and  adopted  through  the  neighboring  states. 
Low  and  degrading  views  of  human  nature  were  generally 
entertained.  A  regard  to  one's  own  interest  was  held  to  be 
the  only  rule  of  conduct,  and  the  senses  were  the  only 
source  and  avenue  of  knowledge.  But  such  false  and 
grovelling  systems  could  not  long  retain  their  ascendency. 
A  reaction  took  place,  and  a  disposition  to  exaggerate  the 
dignity  and  independence  of  human  nature  has  been  as  con- 
spicuous of  late,  as  was  the  former  tendency  to  vilify  and 
degrade.  A  more  accurate  analysis  of  mind  again  disclosed 
the  fact,  which  only  the  vaporings  and  puerilities  of  a  mis- 
called philosophy  had  been  able  to  conceal,  that  there  is  a 
moral  principle  in  man,  which  rebukes  his  selfish  inclina- 
tions, claims  rightful  and  supreme  authority  over  all  his  mo- 
tives of  action,  and  holds  up  an  ideal  standard  of  absolute 
right,  as  the  only  gage  of  merit  and  proper  ground  of  self- 
approbation.  In  like  manner,  a  more  searching  examina- 
tion of  various  processes  of  intellect  proved,  that  although 
the  cognitive  faculty  is  first  called  into  exercise  by  impres- 
sions received  from  the  senses,  still  these  sources  were  far 
from  supplying  all,  or  even  the  most  important  materials  of 
knowledge ;  that  other  elements  proceed  wholly  from  an 
internal  fountain,  and  even  those  which  first  came  from 
without  are  so  modified  by  the  original  and  self-acting 
powers  of  mind,  as  in  their  mature  estate  to  present  few 
traces  of  their  material  origin.  The  reestablishment, — 
for  thus  it  is  more  properly  called  than  a  discovery,  —  of 
these  important  truths  respecting  our  moral  and  intellectual 
constitution,  naturally  led  to  higher  views  of  our  native  ca- 
pacities and  power  of  self-reliance.  Philosophers  were 
tired  of  painting  man  as  a  demon,  and  now  sought  the 
means  of  representing  him  as  a  god.  Especially  has  this 
disposition  been  manifested  when  treating  of  the  nature  and 


106  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  : 

functions  of  conscience,  so  that  some  persons  have  now  be- 
come just  as  much  fanatics,  just  as  irrational,  in  regard  to 
the  moral  principle,  as  were  formerly  the  wildest  sect  of 
the  Puritans  in  relation  to  religious  faith.  Reverence  of 
their  own  nature  seems  to  them  quite  as  just  and  proper  as 
reverence  of  the  Deity,  and  a  glowing,  though  vague  con- 
ception of  virtue  takes  the  place  of  religion,  as  a  guide  of 
life.  Nay,  a  sort  of  ecstatic  contemplation  of  the  mere 
ideas  of  duty  and  right,  has,  with  many,  usurped  the  place 
of  a  practical  manifestation  of  these  ideas  in  outward  con- 
duct, and  thus  a  species  of  Antinomianism  has  been  estab- 
lished on  ethical  grounds,  quite  as  absurd  and  dangerous  as 
the  same  theory  is,  when  nominally  founded  on  Scripture. 

To  consider  entire  self-dependence  as  the  highest  stage 
of  moral  advancement,  to  look  upon  all  recourse  to  the 
teachings  either  of  Natural  or  Revealed  Religion  as  an  evi- 
dence of  weakness,  as  a  defect  that  may  both  practically 
and  theoretically  be  done  away,  —  and  such  is  the  ground 
assumed  by  Fichte,  —  is  a  mode  of  thinking,  which,  fully 
carried  out,  can  stop  in  nothing  short  of  atheism.  If  the 
religious  law  is  narrowed  down  to  an  entire  identity  with 
the  moral,  if  revelation  requires  nothing  more  of  us  than 
what  conscience  alone  would  demand,  then  disappears,  — 
not  merely  all  necessity  for  any  direct  and  special  interven- 
tion of  the  Deity  in  the  course  of  human  affairs,  —  but  also 
all  sure  ground  for  believing  in  his  existence.  Such  an 
opinion  may  be  held  for  a  time,  for  it  is  flattering  to  the 
pride  of  human  reason.  But  in  many  minds  a  reaction  will 
be  liable  to  occur,  that  will  carry  its  subjects  to  the  opposite 
extreme ;  and  thus  may  be  explained  the  sudden  transitions, 
that  are  often  witnessed,  from  a  state  of  unbelief  to  a  com- 
plex, exaggerated,  and  gloomy  faith.  Man  is  represented 
in  this  theory  as  standing  by  his  own  strength,  —  as  need- 
ing no  support  from  above,  or  from  any  quarter,  before  he 


PHILOSOPHY   APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  107 

can  act  out  the  part  assigned  to  him,  and  satisfy  all  the  de- 
mands of  his  rational  and  moral  nature.  But  human  nature 
is  weak,  and  any  attempt  at  entire  Stoicism  is  soon  sub- 
jected to  severe  trials.  Though  revelation  may  have  no 
farther  duties  to  impose,  it  may  contain  consolations,  with 
which  it  is  difficult  to  dispense.  To  obtain  support  in  hours 
of  despondency  and  actual  suffering,  man  must  recur  to 
the  formerly  slighted  faith.  But  if  the  doctrine  contain  no 
more  than  what  he  once  ascribed  to  it,  there  is  no  reason 
for  admitting  it,  and  the  desired  aid  cannot  be  obtained. 
But  may  not  Revealed  Religion  be  something  more  than  a 
pure  system  of  ethics  ?  May  not  there  be  some  meaning 
in  the  often  repeated  requisition  of  faith  ?  Are  there  not 
doctrines  which  must  be  received,  if  at  all,  with  the  rever- 
ence and  humility  of  a  little  child  ?  May  not  even  an  en- 
tire denegation  of  human  reason  be  the  indispensable  con- 
dition for  obtaining  spiritual  aid  ?  No  sooner  do  these 
questions  suggest  themselves  to  the  mind  of  the  humbled 
Stoic,  than  he  perceives  that  his  confidence  in  the  divine 
origin  of  this  message  to  man  will  be  in  direct  proportion 
to  the  number  and  difficulty  of  the  doctrines  contained  in 
it,  and  to  the  consequent  self-abasement  which  is  necessary 
for  their  reception.  Formerly,  the  simplest  theory  of  reli- 
gion contained  too  much  for  his  proud  spirit ;  now,  the 
most  complex  and  difficult  system  has  hardly  enough  to 
satisfy  his  thirst  to  believe.  In  such  a  frame  of  mind,  he 
will  be  ready  to  confess,  that  his  former  conception  of  vir- 
tue was  practically  cold  and  dead  as  an  icicle,  though  per- 
haps it  was  also  as  bright  and  clear. 

Our  remarks  are  already  extended  to  such  a  length,  that 
there  is  no  space  left  for  a  critical  examination  of  Fichte's 
theory.  And  perhaps  the  labor  of  such  an  examination  is 
not  needed,  since  the  capital  mistake  in  the  application  of 
the  whole  reasoning  may  be   pointed  out  in  a  few  words. 


108  FICHTE's    exposition    of    KANT  : 

That  error  consists  in  entirely  confounding  the  distinct 
provinces  of  moral  and  demonstrative  reasoning.  It  is 
certainly  improbable,  —  we  will  not  say  with  Fichte,  im- 
possible, —  that  the  truth  of  a  revelation  should  be  demon- 
strated, —  that  men  should  be  convinced  of  its  divine  orimn 
by  the  same  intuitive  perception  or  rigid  mathematical  de- 
duction, that  compels  them  to  receive  the  axioms  and  pri- 
mary theorems  of  arithmetic  and  geometry.  Such  an 
announcement  of  God  to  man  would  defeat  its  own  end, 
which  is  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  addressed.  Men  would  be  compelled  to  believe, 
and  the  magnitude  of  the  reward  and  punishment  thus 
brought  with  absolute  certainty  before  their  eyes,  would 
destroy  at  the  same  time  the  possibility  of  sin  and  the  merit 
of  obedience.  Free  agency  would  be  practically  done 
away,  since  compliance  with  a  law  proclaimed  in  this  man- 
ner would  be  as  involuntary,  and  as  little  a  ground  of  merit, 
as  the  caution  a  person  exercises  in  not  putting  his  hand 
into  the  fire,  or  in  turning  out  of  his  path  to  avoid  a  preci- 
pice. Now,  Fichte's  whole  argument  is  directed  against 
the  demonstrative  evidence  of  a  revelation,  and  has  neither 
force  nor  relevancy,  when  applied  to  the  moral  proofs. 
This  appears  at  once  from  a  consideration  of  his  reasoning 
concerning  miracles, —  the  keystone  of  his  whole  system, 
where  no  reference  whatever  is  made  to  the  magnitude  and 
importance  of  what  is  assumed  to  be  a  special  display  of 
divine  agency,  but  the  criticism  cuts  short  such  assumption 
in  every  conceivable  case.  Should  the  heavens  be  rolled 
together  like  a  scroll,  and  the  earth  give  up  its  dead,  and 
the  common  conception  of  a  final  judgment  be  realized  in 
its  full  extent,  we  could  not  even  here  demonstrate  the 
suspension  of  nature's  ordinary  laws,  or  infer  with  logical 
certainty  the  immediate  operation  of  the  Infinite  cause. 
But  every  one  knows,  that  moral   proof,  though  different  in 


PHILOSOPHY    APPLIED    TO    THEOLOGY.  109 

kind,  may  still  be  accumulated  and  heightened,  till  it  pro- 
duce as  full  conviction  as  mathematical  evidence.  We  no 
more  hesitate  to  act  on  the  presumption,  that  fire  will  burn 
and  water  drown,  than  on  the  belief  that  two  and  two  make 
four.  Indeed,  facts  of  the  former  class,  which  rest  only  on 
moral  evidence,  on  induction  and  testimony,  form  the  basis 
of  nearly  all  the  rules  by  which  we  regulate  our  ordinary 
conduct.  The  argument  of  the  Transcendentalist,  there- 
fore, proves  nothing,  because  it  proves  too  much.  He  at- 
tempts to  prevent  our  recognising  the  authority  of  revela- 
tion as  a  rule  of  life,  by  arguments  which  would  lead  us  to 
reject  the  simplest  maxim  of  prudence  in  the  management 
of  our  ordinary  concerns. 

A  story  is  told  of  one  of  the  ancient  Greek  philosophers, 
that  being  wrecked  with  some  companions  on  what  was 
supposed  to  be  a  barren  and  uninhabited  coast,  he  happened 
to  find  some  geometrical  diagrams  drawn  on  the  sand,  and 
immediately  called  out,  "  Courage,  my  friends,  I  perceive 
the  traces  of  men."  It  was  certainly  conceivable,  that 
these  figures  should  have  been  produced  by  fortuitous 
causes,  by  the  action  of  the  winds  and  waves  upon  the 
stones  on  the  beach.  Still,  the  inference,  that  civilized 
men  had  been  there,  was  so  just  and  obvious,  that  it  would 
have  argued  insanity  in  the  observers,  had  they  doubted 
the  fact  for  a  moment.  The  case  is  precisely  parallel  to 
that  of  miracles  alleged  in  support  of  a  revelation.  It  is 
conceivable,  that  a  moral  teacher  should  heal  the  sick  and 
raise  the  dead,  though  he  had  not  received  a  special  mis- 
sion from  the  Deity.  It  is  possible,  that  men  who  heard 
and  saw  these  events  should  still  refuse  to  credit  the  divine 
origin  of  the  doctrine  taught,  as  we  know  the  Jews  did  with 
Jesus  of  Nazareth.  But  it  was  reserved  for  the  ingenuity 
of  modern  philosophers  to  argue,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
believe  under  such  circumstances. 
10 


110 


The  conceivable  objects  of  a  revelation  are,  to  increase 
what  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  divine  nature  and  our  own 
destiny  we  may  obtain  through  the  light  of  reason  and  con- 
science, —  to  confirm  by  an  additional  sanction  the  author- 
ity of  the  moral  law  whhin  us,  —  and  to  impose  new  duties, 
lying  beyond  the  sphere  of  conscience,  and  therefore  nei- 
ther commanded  nor  rejected  by  that  faculty  ;  —  such  as 
acts  of  special  acknowledgment  of  the  Creator's  infinite 
power  and  goodness.  Should  it  be  the  will  of  God  to  make 
such  a  revelation,  there  is  an  antecedent  presumption,  that 
it  will  be  accompanied  with  such  evidence  of  its  origin, 
that  mankind  will  still  be  left  free  whether  to  accept  or 
reject  it.  Thus  only  will  it  accord  with  other  portions  of 
the  scheme  of  Divine  Providence  in  the  government  of 
men ;  with  the  physical  laws  of  the  universe,  for  instance, 
in  conformity  to  which  our  conduct  must  be  regulated  for 
the  preservation  of  life  and  health,  and  which  are  not  made 
known  to  us  by  intuition  or  demonstration,  but  must  be 
slowly  and  carefully  investigated.  And  then  only,  we  may 
add,  will  it  agree  with  the  natural  law  of  ethics  ;  for  how- 
ever simple  and  authoritative  may  be  the  dictates  of  this 
principle  to  a  well-disciplined  and  inquiring  mind,  all  histo- 
ry and  experience  abound  with  instances  to  prove  the  perils 
of  an  unenlightened  conscience.  The  idea  of  a  revelation 
forced  upon  mankind  by  demonstrative  evidence  is  at  war 
with  the  only  proper  conception  of  the  object  of  the  divine 
government ;  for  the  instances  just  adduced  justify  us  in 
asserting,  that  this  object  must  be,  —  not  merely  to  raise 
men  to  a  state  of  moral  perfection,  which  would  require 
only  a  simple  act  of  omnipotence,  —  but  to  supply  them 
with  the  means  of  raising  themselves.  Not  mere  attain- 
ment, but  progress,  is  the  law  of  our  finite  condition. 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  Ill 


IV. 

THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.* 

The  writings  of  Cousin  form  the  popular  philosophy  of 
the  day.  Their  success  in  this  country  is  attested  by  the 
appearance  of  the  three  translations,  of  which  the  titles  are 
given  above,  one  of  which  has  already  passed  to  a  second 
edition,  and  has  been  introduced  as  a  text-book  in  some  of 
our  principal  colleges.  There  must  be  some  grounds  for 
this  popularity,  apart  from  the  bias  manifested  by  many 
people  to  adopt  as  their  favorite  system  of  philosophy,  the 
one  which  happens  to  be  the  last  published.  Such  a  bias 
operated  to  swell  the  favor  with  which  the  writings  of  the 
late  Dr.  Brown  were  at  first  received,  and,  in  its  reaction, 
to  depress  his  reputation  with  quite  as  much  injustice  as  it 
had  at  first  been  elevated.  We  do  not  anticipate  for  Cousin 
such  a  rapid  fall  in  public  estimation,  because   his   great 

*  From  the  Korth  American  Review,  for  July,  1841. 

Introduction  to  the  History  of  Philosophy.  By  Victor  Cousin. 
Translated  from  the  French.  By  Henning  Gotfried  Linberg. 
Boston.    1832. 

Specimens  of  Foreign  Standard  Literature.  Vols.  I.  and  11.  Con- 
taining Philosophical  Miscellanies,  translated  from  the  Freiich  of 
Cousin,  JouFFRoy,  and  B.  Constant.  With  Introductory  and  Criti- 
cal JVotices.    By  George  Ripley.     Boston.    1838. 

Elements  of  Psychology ;  included  in  a  Critical  Examination  of 
Locke  s  Essay  on  [the]  Human  Understanding,  with  Additional  Pieces. 
By  Victor  Cousin.  Translated  from  the  French,  with  an  Introduc- 
tion and  JVotes.  By  the  Rev.  C.  S.  Henry,  D.  D.  Second  Edition, 
prepared  for  the  Use  of  Colleges.     New  York.     1838. 


112  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

learning  and  the  merits  of  his  style,  to  carry  the  compari- 
son no  farther,  give  him  a  decided  advantage  over  the 
Scotch  professor  ;  and  his  lectures,  moreover,  are  not  a 
posthumous  publication.  His  manner,  after  all,  is  not 
much  to  the  taste  of  sober  and  accurate  thinkers ;  but  it 
has  qualities  which  are  sure  to  please  the  majority  of  read- 
ers. Evidently  formed  in  the  lecture  room,  it  is  sometimes 
eloquent,  but  more  frequently  declamatory.  Profound  sub- 
jects are  treated  without  any  atfectation  of  profundity  of 
manner,  —  the  capital  vice  of  the  German  metaphysicians  ; 
and  the  general  lucidness  of  the  views  set  forth  is  due 
partly  to  the  clearness  of  the  writer's  mind,  and  partly  to 
the  superficial  character  of  his  inquiries.  He  never  fa- 
tigues the  reader  with  a  long  train  of  argument,  either  be- 
cause he  dislikes  the  sublilties  of  logic,  or  is  incapable  of 
that  severe  exertion  of  mind  which  is  necessary  in  order 
to  bridge  over  the  vast  interval,  that  often  separates  ulti- 
mate truths  from  primitive  perceptions.  His  conclusions 
lie  but  a  step  from  the  premises,  when  they  have  any 
premises  at  all,  and  they  are  repeated  with  a  frequency, 
that  marks  the  habits  of  a  lecturer  to  a  mixed  audience, 
while  it  spares  any  severe  effort  of  memory  to  those,  who 
have  the  good  fortune  of  being  able  to  study  the  matter 
in  print.  We  find  nothing  like  terseness  of  manner,  or 
simplicity  of  statement ;  and  the  rhetoric,  though  highly 
wrought,  in  our  judgment  at  least,  often  appears  cold  and 
artificial,  instead  of  being  penetrated  with  real  warmth  of 
feeling.  But  there  is  great  copiousness,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  much  dignity,  of  expression  ;  and  the  swell  of  dic- 
tion often  gives  prominence  and  effect  to  the  enunciation 
of  simple  and  familiar  truths.  The  fairness  and  candor, 
which,  with  one  great  exception,  he  displays  in  estimating 
the  services  of  other  metaphysicians,  are  quite  as  manifest 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  113 

as  the  complacency  with  which  he  alludes  to  his  own 
merits. 

Apart  from  the  excellences  and  defects  of  his  manner, 
the  favor  shown  to  the  writings  of  Cousin  is  due  to  the  skill 
with  which  he  has  borrowed  from  the  works  of  other  phi- 
losophers, to  the  lucid  manner  in  which  he  has  treated  the 
materials  thus  obtained,  and  to  the  ingenuity  with  which  he 
has  interwoven  them  into  his  own  system.  He  has  known 
how  to  put  all  schools  under  contribution,  and  thus  to  build 
up,  piece  by  piece,  the  mosaic  work  of  the  edifice,  which 
he  calls  his  own.  The  Scotch  and  Germans  are  those  to 
whom  he  is  most  indebted,  though  the  obligation  is  certain- 
ly mutual,  for  the  doctrines  thus  transplanted  are  often 
freed  from  objectionable  peculiarities,  expressed  with  great- 
er force  and  clearness,  and  thus  brought  within  the  reach 
of  a  wider  circle  of  readers.  The  reputation  of  being  a 
skilful  borrower  may  not  appear  very  flattering,  but  there 
are  great  merits  in  the  able  execution  even  of  this  seconda- 
ry task.  To  break  up  the  distinctions  between  various 
schools,  to  give  universal  currency  to  the  treasures  of  in- 
tellect and  taste,  which  had  otherwise  been  confined  to  a 
single  nation,  to  make  available  for  common  use  the  labors 
even  of  one  master  mind,  which  has  been  more  successful 
in  the  discovery  than  the  dissemination  of  truth,  is  an  office 
which  has  sure  claims  on  the  gratitude,  though  it  may  not 
challenge  the  admiration,  of  mankind.  We  give  all  credit 
to  Cousin  for  the  ability  with  which  he  has  used  his  stores 
of  learning,  and  for  the  frankness  which  he  shows  in  con- 
fessing the  extent  of  his  obligations. 

But  he  is  mistaken  in  imagining,  that  this  manner  of 
building  up  a  system  by  patchwork  is  really  a  new  method 
of  conducting  philosophical  inquiry.  He  speaks  of  Eclec- 
ticism, as  if  it  were  a  Novum  Organon  for  the  advance- 
ment of  metaphysical  science,  and  as  if  the  neglect  of  it 
10* 


114  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

had  been  the  leading  cause  of  the  errors  and  contradic- 
tions, with  which  the  history  of  philosophy  is  filled.  Here 
is  the  double  error  of  supposing,  in  the  first  place,  that 
Eclecticism  as  such  can  properly  be  called  any  method  at 
all  for  the  discovery  of  truth  ;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
of  believing,  that  it  is  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  his  own 
philosophy.  As  to  the  former  point,  one  juight  as  well  talk 
about  an  Eclectic  system  of  geometry.  The  word  does 
not  refer  to  any  new  method  of  finding  truth,  but  only  to 
the  manner  of  presenting  the  result  of  one's  labors  to  the 
world,  whether  alone  or  in  connexion  with  the  fruits  of 
other  men's  researches.  And  in  the  second  place,  every 
system  of  philosophy,  which  has  been  broached  since  the 
time  of  Thales,  has  been  more  or  less  Eclectic  in  its  char- 
acter. Indeed,  if  philosophy  be  any  science  at  all,  it  must 
grow  by  addition,  by  the  successive  contributions  of  differ- 
ent minds.  Every  new  fact  discovered,  every  additional 
principle  evolved,  forms  a  new  item  to  swell  the  previous 
store.  It  is  true,  that  the  longing  after  unity  and  complete- 
ness operates  as  a  constant  temptation  to  round  off  the 
whole  into  a  single  theory.  But  in  no  case,  that  ever  we 
heard  of,  has  such  theory  been  presented  as  the  entire 
growth  of  one  mind.  To  go  no  farther  for  instances,  every 
one  perceives,  that  Kant  is  under  great  obligations  to  Aris- 
totle, Reid  to  Locke,  and  Cousin  to  all  the  four,  to  say 
nothing  of  many  others.  If  philosophy  be  considered,  as 
some  would  have  it,  as  the  solution  of  a  single  problem,  it 
it  evident  that  no  Eclecticism  is  possible,  for  there  can  be 
only  one  true  solution.  If,  on  the  contrary,  it  be  consid- 
ered as  a  science,  as  it  really  is  the  most  comprehensive  of 
all  sciences,  then  Eclecticism,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
is  unavoidable.  One  cannot,  if  he  would,  avoid  incorpo- 
rating into  his  own  view  of  it  some  portion  of  the  labors  of 
other  men,  whether  these  elements  of  truth  remain  in  the 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  115 

state  in  which  they  were  first  announced  by  their  discover- 
ers, or  have  since  passed  out  into  practice,  as  familiar 
principles  of  thought  or  conduct. 

When  Kant  applied  the  term  Criticism  to  his  prelimi- 
nary examination  of  the  grounds  on  which  metaphysical 
science  rests,  he  used  the  word  with  a  definite  meaning 
attached  to  it,  and  had  good  reasons  for  its  application. 
His  great  work  comprised  a  critical  inquiry  into  the  origin 
and  nature  of  all  a  priori  knowledge,  with  a  view  to  test 
the  stability  of  the  foundation,  on  which  rest  all  systems  of 
philosophy,  whether  dogmatical  or  skeptical,  and  thereby 
to  determine  the  merits  of  those  systems.  But  we  see  no 
propriety  in  designating  the  system  of  Cousin  as  an  Eclec- 
tic philosophy,  except  in  the  mere  fact,  that  he  has  bor- 
rowed more  largely  than  others  have  done  from  the  labors 
of  his  predecessors,  and  therefore  can  with  less  reason  be 
said  to  possess  any  system  that  is  his  own.  So  far  as  it 
is  borrowed,  it  does  not  belong  to  him  ;  so  far  as  it  is  origi- 
nal, it  is  not  Eclectic. 

There  is  a  similar  error  in  his  remarks  upon  Method, 
where  he  lays  much  stress  on  the  process  of  inquiry  by 
way  of  observation  and  induction,  as  if  it  were  the  dis- 
tinguishing trait  of  his  own  labors  in  the  field  of  mental 
philosophy.  Every  system  purports  to  rest  more  or  less 
directly  upon  observed  facts,  since  the  wildest  theorist 
would  disclaim  the  intention  of  building  hypotheses,  with- 
out pretending  to  seek  a  basis  for  them  in  universal  expe- 
rience. None  have  been  more  cautious  in  this  respect, 
than  the  Sensualists  of  the  school  of  Gondii  lac.  Cousin 
objects  to  them,  and  with  reason,  that  they  have  confined 
themselves  to  the  most  obvious  facts  in  our  mental  consti- 
tution, without  inquiring  into  their  grounds  and  origin,  and 
thus  have  held  up  the  mere  phenomena  of  sensation,  as  pre- 
senting a  complete  theory  of  our  intellectual  nature.     A 


116  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

more  searching  analysis  discloses  an  element  in  the  infor- 
mation supposed  to  come  through  the  senses,  which  cannot 
be  attributed  to  the  outward  impression,  and  the  origin  of 
which  must  therefore  be  inferred,  not  observed,  from  its 
characteristic  features  of  universality  and  necessity.  Fol- 
lowing closely  in  the  steps  of  the  Scotch  metaphysicians, 
Cousin  has  laid  bare  this  element,  and  traced  it  to  its  home 
among  the  original  and  intuitive  perceptions  of  the  soul. 
We  do  not  question  either  the  result,  or  the  legitimacy  of 
the  method  by  which  it  is  obtained  ;  but  what  we  have  to 
remark  is,  that  Cousin  here  abandons  the  rules  of  investiga- 
tion,  on  which  he  insisted  so  much  in  the  outset,  and  pro- 
ceeds by  inference  and  analogy.  From  the  nature  of  the 
case,  the  primitive  character  of  a  cognition  cannot  be  ob- 
served ;  it  must  be  deduced  from  the  secondary  and  com- 
plex notions,  which  alone  are  the  direct  objects  of  conscious- 
ness. It  is  even  a  hypothesis  ;  a  legitimate  one,  it  is  true, 
but  still  a  hypothesis,  for  it  is  assumed  to  be  primitive,  only 
because  no  fact  of  experience  has  yet  been  shown  sufficient 
to  account  for  its  existence. 

Certainly,  we  do  not  find  fault  with  the  method  here  pur- 
sued by  Cousin,  for  we  believe,  that  in  great  part  it  is  the 
only  possible  method.  We  blame  him  only  for  laying 
down  in  the  outset  such  an  insufficient  rule  of  inquiry,  that 
he  is  obliged  to  desert  it  before  he  has  fairly  entered  the 
vestibule  of  the  science.  The  instance  we  have  given,  the 
analysis  of  the  mental  act  in  perception,  lies  at  the  very 
threshold  of  a  psychological  theory,  and  in  order  to  take 
this  first  step,  it  is  necessary  to  use  a  higher  Organon  of 
investigation,  than  that  which  Bacon  established  as  the  only 
legitimate  one  for  physical  science.  What  are  we  to  ex- 
pect, then,  when  our  author  imps  his  wings  for  a  loftier 
flight,  and  soars  into  the  higher  regions  of  speculative  phi- 
losophy by  a  series  of  the  boldest  and  widest  generaliza- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  117 

tions  ?  Why,  that  he  should  wholly  lose  sight,  as  he  does, 
of  his  preliminary  principles,  and  proceed  by  anticipa- 
tions as  bold  as  ever  entered  the  teeming  brains  of  those 
who  formed  the  ancient  Grecian  schools.  His  doctrine  of 
the  absolute,  of  the  impersonality  of  the  reason,  his  antici- 
pation of  the  epochs  into  which  the  history  of  philosophy 
must  divide  itself,  his  a  priori  method  of  writing  general 
history,  —  these  are  strange  fruits  of  a  rigid  application  of 
the  inductive  method. 

Cousin  has  written  and  published  much,  but  he  has  never 
given  to  the  public  an  entire  and  connected  view  of  his  sys- 
tem in  a  single  work.  His  theory  must  be  pieced  together 
from  prefaces,  lectures,  and  scraps  of  criticism.  This  cir- 
cumstance detracts  from  the  systematic  appearance  of  his 
speculations,  and  makes  it  less  a  matter  of  surprise,  that 
there  should  be  a  frequent  want  of  harmony  between  the 
parts.  As  in  the  later  publications,  we  find  many  opinions 
modified  and  set  in  a  different  light  from  that  in  which  they 
were  first  expressed,  it  is  probable  that  the  system  is  not  yet 
definitely  worked  out  in  the  author's  own  mind,  and  there- 
fore an  attempt  to  represent  its  features  as  a  whole  would 
be,  even  now,  premature.  Perhaps,  after  all,  a  conscious- 
ness of  weakness  may  be  at  the  bottom  of  this  delay,  —  a 
lurking  fear,  lest  the  prominent  points  of  difference  be- 
tween him  and  his  predecessors,  when  reduced  to  their  sim- 
plest expression  in  a  methodical  theory,  should  not  appear 
to  so  much  advantage  as  they  now  do,  when  brought  in  sin- 
gly and  incidentally,  and  placed  in  sharp  contrast  with  opin- 
ions of  an  opposite  character.  Be  this  as  it  may,  there  is 
an  obvious  propriety,  at  present,  in  abstaining  from  any  at- 
tempt to  give  a  miniature  sketch  of  his  philosophical  doc- 
trine as  a  whole,  and  in  confining  our  remarks  and  criti- 
cisms to  those  points,  on  which  Cousin  himself  lays  most 
stress,  as   furnishing   the    keynote  of  all  his  speculations. 


118  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

His  writings  are  now  so  widely  known,  that  our  readers  can 
find  no  difficulty  in  following  rather  a  desultory  comment 
upon  them. 

A  liking  for  bold  and  splendid  generalizations,  rapidly 
formed  and  confidently  stated,  which  Cousin  possesses  in 
common  with  most  speculative  writers  of  his  nation,  is  very 
apparent  in  his  analysis  and  arrangement  of  the  elements 
of  pure  reason.  Aristotle,  the  most  successful  of  all  phi- 
losophers in  forming  a  comprehensive  and  systematic  clas- 
sification of  the  operations  of  intellect,  attempted  to  give  a 
general  statement  of  our  modes  of  thought,  and  thus  pro- 
duced his  system  of  the  categories.  These  forms  were 
considered  by  him  as  objective,  for  the  basis  of  the  thought, 
in  each  case,  was  held  to  be  a  property  inherent  in  the  out- 
ward thing.  Nature  was  considered  in  its  effects  upon 
mind,  and  thus  a  classification  of  mental  phenomena  rep- 
resented also  those  qualities  of  external  objects,  to  which 
the  phenomena  were  believed  to  correspond.  The  list  thus 
formed  was  altered  and  enlarged  by  Kant,  who  also  boldly 
inverted  the  method  of  Aristotle,  by  maintaining  the  doc- 
trine, that  the  mind  creates  the  object,  and  beholds  in  the 
properties  of  nature  nothing  but  a  reflection  of  itself.  The 
thinking  subject  projects  its  own  modes  of  action  and  being 
upon  the  unsentient  object,  and  gives  out  from  itself  the 
coloring  and  forms,  if  not  the  very  tissue  and  framework, 
of  the  natural  world.  The  Greek  nomenclature  was  in 
great  part  retained,  and  the  categories,  twelve  in  number, 
were  divided  equally  among  the  four  classes  of  quantity, 
quality,  relation,  and  modality.  The  essential  vice  of  both 
theories  is,  that  the  classification  is  merely  formal,  the  phe- 
nomena of  intelligence  being  numberless,  and  the  reduction 
of  them  to  a  few  elements  proceeding  on  principles  that  are 
wholly  arbitrary.  Every  aspect  under  which  an  object 
may  be  viewed,  every  relation  it  may  bear  to  other  objects, 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  119 

presents  a  distinct  conception,  and  the  farther  we  carry  our 
arbitrary  suppression  of  the  points  of  difference  between 
these  conceptions,  the  smaller  will  be  our  list  of  ultimate 
elements,  and  the  more  imperfectly  will  a  particular  idea 
be  represented  in  that  general  notion,  which  stands  at  the 
head  of  its  class.  Kant  had  twelve  categories  ;  Cousin  re- 
duces them  all  to  three.  Cousin's  reduction  is  a  forced  and 
capricious  one,  but  no  more  so,  perhaps,  than  the  preceding 
arrangement  by  Kant,  or  the  original  synthesis  by  Aristotle. 
Classification  proceeds  by  considering  only  the  common 
properties  of  things,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  individual  and 
distinguishing  traits.  The  process  is  legitimate,  only  when 
the  objects  of  it  are  complex.  A  partial  consideration  of 
simple  ideas  is  impossible,  and  any  attempt,  therefore,  to 
rank  them  together,  must  destroy  their  essential  character. 
An  imperfect  apprehension  of  them  is  necessarily  a  false 
apprehension,  and  classification  will  produce  nothing  but 
confusion. 

In  Cousin's  bold  reduction  of  the  elements  of  reason,  the 
ideas  of  unity,  substance,  cause,  identity,  eternity,  &c.  are 
all  identified  as  various  forms  of  the  Infinite  ;  while  the  cor- 
relative ideas  of  multiplicity,  phenomenon,  effect,  diversity, 
and  time  are  regarded  as  modifications  of  the  Finite.  These 
ideas  of  the  Infinite  and  the  Finite,  and  the  relation  between 
them,  constitute  the  three  ultimate  elements  of  reason,  be- 
yond which  the  force  of  analysis  can  no  farther  go.  It  is 
difficult  to  imagine  on  what  principle  this  bold  effort  of  gen- 
eralization proceeds.  Our  idea  of  unity  is  not  one  and  the 
same  with  that  of  cause,  nor  is  substance  identical  with 
eternity  ;  nor  is  the  idea  of  infinity,  whether  considered  as 
the  mere  negation  of  limit,  or  as  a  positive  and  indepen- 
dent conception,  necessarily  predicated  of  either.  The 
consideration  of  an  object  as  one  or  many,  is  very  different 
from  the  view  of  it  as  active  or  passive,  or  as  finite  or  in- 


120  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

finite.  When  Cousin,  therefore,  ranks  together  all  terms  of 
the  first  class  as  infinite,  and  all  those  of  the  second  as  finite, 
it  cannot  be  because  the  relation  of  sameness  exists  between 
them,  in  spite  of  apparent  diversity.  The  diversity  is  real, 
is  essential,  and  moreover  is  so  apparent  and  striking,  that 
it  cannot  be  blinked  out  of  view,  or  hidden  by  a  mist  of 
words.  II  saute  aux  yeux.  The  principles  which  led  to 
this  bold  grouping  together  of  dissimilar  ideas,  and  the 
arguments  by  which  it  is  supported,  are  nowhere  stated  in 
Cousin's  published  writings,  though  he  affirms,  that  they 
are  developed  at  length  in  some  academical  prelections, 
which  as  yet  have  not  seen  the  light.  Here  is  one  instance 
of  the  evil  effects  of  publishing  a  system  piecemeal,  that 
the  reader  is  perplexed  by  broad  and  confident  statements, 
which  he  has  no  means  of  investigating,  but  must  accept  or 
reject  on  the  unsupported  authority  of  the  writer. 

The  most  profound  problem  of  speculative  philosophy, 
the  one  which  necessarily  occupies  the  front  rank  in  all 
metaphysical  systems,  relates  to  the  certainty  of  human 
knowledge.  How  do  we  know  that  things  are  what  they 
appear  ?  How  do  we  effect  a  passage  from  the  percipient 
mind  to  the  existence  of  things  in  themselves  ?  The  skep- 
tic affirms,  that  the  mind  is  directly  conscious  only  of  its 
own  operations,  and  that  the  assumption  of  an  order  of 
being,  which  exists  independently  of  the  thoughts  in  which 
it  is  portrayed,  is  entirely  gratuitous  and  improper.  He 
even  goes  farther,  and,  on  the  ground  of  the  fleeting  and  suc- 
cessive character  of  all  mental  representations,  denies  the 
existence  of  the  thinking  subject,  and  thus  leaves  nothing 
remaining  of  creation  but  a  crowd  of  ideas,  that  succeed 
each  other  without  order,  self-direction,  or  purpose.  It  is 
true,  that  human  nature  corrects  this  extravagant  Pyrrhon- 
ism, and  compels  the  skeptic  in  his  daily  conduct  to  give 
the  lie  to  his  forced  opinions.     But  the  philosopher  is  not 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  121 

content  with  this  summary  treatment  of  the  difficulty,  and 
with  restless  curiosity  seeks  for  the  reasons,  on  which  this 
decisive  verdict  of  nature  is  based.  The  various  modes  of 
solving  this  problem  amount  to  little  more  than  attempts  to 
substantiate  knowledge  which  is  admitted  to  be  intuitive,  or 
in  other  words,  to  find  arguments  wherewith  to  establish 
those  principles,  which,  ex  hypothesi,  cannot  rest  upon 
argument.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  results  of  the 
speculation  in  every  case  should  be  vague  and  profitless. 

The  solution  of  the  difficulty  here  referred  to  forms  the 
most  original  and  characteristic  doctrine  in  the  system  of 
Cousin.  He  seeks  to  give  higher  authority  to  the  principle 
of  intuitive  belief,  by  maintaining  that  the  faculty  of  Pure 
Reason  is  impersonal,  and  that  its  dictates  ought  therefore 
to  be  received  as  the  fruits  of  actual  inspiration.  According 
to  this  theory,  personality  belongs  only  to  the  will,  and 
since  belief  is  independent  of  volition,  truth  is  universal  and 
imperative,  and  the  individual  mind  is  only  the  organ, 
through  which  it  is  manifested  to  consciousness.  "  Truth 
itself  is  absolute,  and  what  we  call  Reason  is  truly  distinct 
from  ourselves."  If  this  faculty  were  individual  and  per- 
sonal, it  is  argued,  it  would  also  be  voluntary  and  free,  and 
we  should  be  able  to  control  its  acts  in  the  same  way  that 
we  determine  our  particular  volitions.  But  the  axioms  of 
mathematics  and  the  first  principles  of  morals  are  neces- 
sary apprehensions,  and  the  being  who  receives  them 
knows,  that  all  other  persons  must  submit  to  the  same 
convictions.  All  truths  of  this  class,  therefore,  cannot  be 
individual,  cannot  be  human.  The  faith  which  we  have  in 
them,  is  not  grounded  on  our  own  strength,  but  rests  on 
authority  that  cannot  be  evaded  or  denied. 

But  here  the  objection  immediately  presents  itself,  that 
human   reason  is  not   infallible,  but  is  subject  to  constant 
aberrations,  the  reality  of  which  is  proved  by  the  very 
11 


122  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

errors,  for  the  refutation  of  which  this  theory  is  propounded. 
Cousin  replies,  that  as  truth  in  itself  is  independent  of 
personal  conviction,  so  the  Reason  in  itself  is  independent 
of  man  in  whom  it  appears.  In  him  it  is  obscured  and 
perverted  by  the  personal  attributes,  in  connexion  with 
which  it  exists  ;  it  is  thwarted  by  the  passions,  and  clouded 
by  the  imagination.  To  obtain  its  uncorrupted  dictates,  we 
must  distinguish  between  its  original  and  secondary  con- 
dition, between  its  spontaneous  development  and  its  exer- 
cise as  watched  and  limited  by  reflection.  The  latter 
faculty  cannot  perform  its  functions,  until  objects  are  fur- 
nished to  it  by  the  primitive  action  of  mind.  These  objects 
are  the  great  truths,  lying  at  the  basis  of  all  intellectual 
operations,  which  are  at  first  perceived  in  a  confused, 
though  vivid  manner,  and  which  compel  belief,  almost 
before  they  are  subject  to  attention ;  certainly,  before  they 
are  examined.  The  child  does  not  doubt,  he  believes ;  and 
the  objects  of  his  belief,  commanding  instant  and  unhesita- 
ting submission,  are  the  fruits  of  real  inspiration.  These 
''  immediate  illuminations  of  the  reason,"  as  Cousin  styles 
them,  are  soon  confused  and  colored  with  ideas  borrowed 
from  the  senses  and  the  aifections,  and  then  comes  the 
hard  task  of  reflection  to  decompose  the  compound  thus 
formed,  and  to  gather  up  again  the  primitive  and  pure  ele- 
ments of  inspired  truth.  Thus  is  vindicated  the  authority 
which  reason  exerts  in  breaking  through  the  meshes  of 
skepticism,  and  in  establishing  the  unhesitating  faith  of 
childhood  on  a  firmer  basis,  than  that  which  supports  the 
surest  deductions  of  science. 

We  have  followed  Cousin's  own  phraseology  here,  as 
nearly  as  possible,  without  finding  room  for  copious  extracts. 
It  will  be  seen,  when  closely  examined,  that  the  language 
is  wavering  and  inconsistent  to  the  last  degree,  like  that  of 
a  person  who  has  not  yet  made  up  his  own  mind  upon  the 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  123 

theory,  which  he  designs  to  promulgate.  At  one  time,  it  is 
only  the  product  of  pure  reason,  the  intuitive  belief  itself, 
which  is  not  obtained  by  our  own  effort,  but  dawns  upon 
us  from  a  higher  source.  Then  again,  and  more  frequently, 
it  is  the  faculty  itself  which  is  not  our  own,  but  assumes 
the  character  of  an  independent  and  decisive  witness.  In 
this  latter  sense,  the  doctrine,  when  stripped  of  the  mist  of 
words  that  encompass  it,  is  wholly  devoid  of  meaning. 
Define  Reason  as  we  may,  separate  its  operations  by  what- 
ever line  from  those  of  the  understanding,  it  is  still  a 
mental  faculty,  or  a  peculiar  manner  of  apprehending  truth. 
Now,  the  thinking  principle  is  one,  and  its  modes  of  action, 
though  separately  considered  for  convenience  and  classifi- 
cation, and  marked  out  with  distinct  appellations  as  various 
faculties,  are  only  different  phases  of  one  subject  viewed  at 
successive  times,  and  acting  under  dissimilar  circumstances. 
That  I  have  one  faculty  of  memory,  and  another  of  judg- 
ment, is  a  phrase  which  means  nothing  more,  than  that  I 
am  able  both  to  remember  and  to  judge.  Hence,  the  asser- 
tion that  a  mental  faculty  is  impersonal  and  does  not  belong 
to  us,  is  a  contradiction  in  terms  ;  in  the  same  breath  it 
both  affirms  and  denies,  that  the  mind  has  the  power  of 
acting  in  a  particular  way.  Either  the  mind  is  capable  of 
apprehending  primitive  truths,  or  it  is  not ;  in  tiie  former 
case,  we  are  said  to  have  the  power  or  faculty  of  appre- 
hending them  ;  in  the  latter,  these  truths  for  us  have  no 
existence.  To  raise  a  question,  therefore,  about  the  owner- 
ship of  a  faculty,  whether  it  is  ours  or  somebody's  else,  is 
to  deal  in  nonsense. 

Cousin  argues,  that  Reason  is  not  personal,  because  its 
action  is  not  voluntary,  or  subject  to  our  control.  Carry  out 
this  argument,  and  it  will  follow,  that  the  greater  part  of 
the  phenomena  of  mind  is  not  personal,  —  does  not  belong 
to  the  thinking   subject.     All   emotion  is   involuntary  ;  all 


124  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   COUSIN. 

sensation  the  same.  But  are  not  our  individual  pleasures 
and  pains  our  own  possessions,  —  personal  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word  .?  Is  not  the  power  of  receiving  these 
pleasures  our  own  faculty,  affected  by  our  states  of  being 
and  modes  of  action,  sharpened  by  exercise  and  blunted  by 
neglect  ?  In  truth.  Cousin  boldly  identifies  personality  with 
activity,  and  then,  as  intellect  is  necessarily  distinguished 
from  will,  he  draws  the  necessary  inference,  that  the  whole 
cognitive  faculty  is  impersonal.  "  Who  ever  said,"  he 
asks,  "  my  truth,  or  your  truth  ?  "  He  forgets,  that  error, 
no  less  than  truth,  is  frequently  the  product  of  mental  ac- 
tion, and  certainly  nothing  is  more  individual,  more  person- 
al, than  mistaken  perceptions  and  false  deductions.  The 
unseen  power  which,  on  his  principles,  kindly  performs  for 
us  those  actions  once  deemed  to  be  our  own,  as  frequently 
leads  us  wrong  as  right ;  the  light  which  leads  astray  is 
equally  a  light  from  heaven.  That  we  may  not  be  accused 
of  misrepresenting  the  opinions  of  Cousin  in  this  particular, 
we  quote  a  passage  in  which  he  denies  the  personality  of 
sensation,  as  well  as  of  reason. 

"  Sensible  facts  are  necessary.  We  do  not  impute  them  to  our- 
selves. Rational  facts  are  also  necessary  ;  and  reason  is  no  less 
independent  of  the  will  than  sensibility.  Voluntary  facts  alone 
are  marked  in  the  view  of  consciousness  with  the  characteristics  of 
personality  and  responsibility.  The  will  alone  is  the  person  or  the 
me.  The  me  is  the  centre  of  the  intellectual  sphere.  So  long  as 
the  me  does  not  exist,  the  conditions  of  the  existence  of  all  the 
other  phenomena  might  be  in  force,  but,  without  relation  to  the 
me,  they  would  not  be  reflected  in  the  consciousness,  and  would 
be  for  it  as  though  they  were  not.  On  the  other  hand,  the  will 
creates  none  of  the  rational  and  sensible  phenomena ;  it  even  sup- 
poses them,  since  it  does  not  apprehend  itself,  except  in  distinction 
from  them.  We  do  not  find  ourselves,  except  in  a  foreign  world, 
between  two  orders  of  phenomena  which  do  not  pertain  to  us, 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  125 

which  we  do  not  even  perceive,  except  on  condition  of  separating 
ourselves  from  them.*'* 

Here  is  a  clear  avowal,  then,  that  the  whole  action  of 
mind,  where  uncontrolled  by  the  will,  takes  place  by  a  for- 
eign power,  and  is  therefore  wrongly  ascribed  to  the  think- 
ing person.  The  fallacies  of  reasoning,  as  well  as  the  intu- 
itive perception  of  truth,  the  successive  acts  of  sensation, 
with  the  inferences,  sometimes  correct  and  sometimes  erro- 
neous, that  are  founded  upon  them,  and  the  emotions  with 
which  they  are  accompanied,  —  are  all  the  promptings  of 
an  agent,  whose  existence  is  independent  of  our  own.  The 
distinction  between  the  spontaneous  and  the  reflective  rea- 
son is  here  of  no  avail,  for  it  is  not  the  secondary  act  which 
obscures  and  perverts  the  primitive  perception,  but  the 
original  sensations  themselves  which  are  the  causes  of  er- 
rors, that  are  subsequently  rectified  by  the  judgment.  What 
grounds  of  confidence  have  we,  then,  for  the  passage  from 
psychology  to  ontology,  to  facilitate  which  the  whole  theory 
was  contrived,  when  the  independent  and  impersonal  agent, 
who  was  to  help  us  over  the  difficulty,  is  the  convicted 
cause  of  all  the  blunders  and  fallacies,  to  which  human 
intellect  is  liable  ? 

But  it  is  a  waste  of  time  to  go  about  controverting  a  the- 
ory, which  contradicts  itself  at  the  first  step.  The  familiar 
fact,  to  which  Descartes  appealed  when  seeking  for  proof 
of  his  own  existence,  is  enough  to  place  this  contradiction 
in  a  clear  light.  Every  act  of  consciousness  is  accompa- 
nied with  the  immediate  and  irresistible  conviction,  that  the 
thinking  subject  coexists  with  the  thought,  and  is  manifested 
in  it.  The  consciousness  that  "  I  think,"  necessarily  im- 
plies my  own  existence,  and  the  mode  of  that  existence. 
It  affirms  three  things,  my  own  being,  the  reality  of  the 

*  Ripley's  Philosophical  Miscellanies,  Vol.  i.  p.  124. 
11* 


126  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

thought,  and  the  connexion  between  these  two  existences 
by  the  relation  of  substance  and  phenomenon.  The  latter 
affirmation  is  quite  as  clear  and  positive  as  the  two  preced- 
ing. The  thought  is  perceived  to  be  personal,  to  be  mine, 
to  be  at  the  moment  the  phasis  of  my  own  being.  Cousin 
contradicts  this  assertion,  and  thus  attempts  to  establish  the 
infallibility  of  a  faculty  by  denying  one  of  its  first  dictates. 

We  observe  farther,  that  the  doctrine,  if  established, 
would  be  profitless  for  Cousin's  purpose.  A  belief,  that 
is  in  its  own  nature  absolute  and  imperative,  acquires 
no  additional  force  from  the  knowledge  that  it  was  im- 
parted to  us  by  an  independent  agent.  It  must  stand  or 
fall  by  its  intrinsic  strength,  the  question  respecting  its 
origin  being  one  of  pure  curiosity.  What  is  received  upon 
authority  may  be  deceptive,  as  well  as  what  is  acquired 
by  our  own  researches.  The  arguments  of  the  skeptic, 
which,  on  the  common  hypothesis,  are  directed  against  the 
trustworthiness  of  our  cognitive  faculties,  upon  this  theory 
would  be  turned  against  the  truthfulness  of  the  source  of 
inspiration,  and  we  do  not  see  why  they  would  not  be  as 
valid  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other.  Let  any  one  ask 
himself,  if  his  conviction  of  the  truth  of  any  proposition  in 
Euclid  would  be  increased  by  the  discovery,  that  the  theo- 
rem was  made  known  to  him  by  special  or  general  inspi- 
ration. Let  him  ask  farther,  if  any  fruits  of  admitted  in- 
spiration could  be  entertained  for  a  moment,  if  they  were 
found  to  contradict  the  first  principles  of  natural  and  per- 
sonal belief.  Then  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  genesis  of 
principles  has  no  effect  on  their  validity,  and  that  the  doc- 
trine we  are  considering  is  not  only  destitute  of  foundation, 
but  nugatory  in  its  results. 

Other  peculiarities  of  Cousin's  philosophical  system  will 
come  into  notice  in  examining  his  celebrated  review  of 
Locke,  a  work  on  which  his  reputation  for  acuteness,  ac- 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  127 

curacy,  and  sound  reasoning  mainly  depends.  An  English 
critic  of  high  authority  has  pronounced  it  "  the  most  im- 
portant work  on  Locke  since  the  Nouveaux  Essais  of  Leib- 
nitz." The  lectures,  which  Cousin  delivered  at  Paris  in 
1829,  were  intended  to  give  a  general  history  of  the  phi- 
losophy of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  but  nearly  half  the 
course  was  devoted  to  this  critical  examination  of  the  "  Es- 
say on  Human  Understanding,"  which  has  attracted  much 
attention  in  Europe,  and  the  translation  of  which  has  al- 
ready passed  to  a  second  edition  in  this  country.  The  plan 
and  execution  of  the  criticism  certainly  place  it  far  above 
the  writer's  other  publications.  There  is  less  rhetoric  and 
more  logic  in  it  than  he  usually  employs  ;  the  style  is  more 
compressed,  and  opinions  are  stated  with  greater  precision. 
Great  candor  is  manifested  through  the  whole  examination, 
and  though  the  misrepresentations  of  Locke,  as  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  show,  are  frequent,  they  do  not  appear 
intentional. 

It  is  no  easy  task  to  criticise  fairly  a  writer  who  lived  a 
century  ago,  and  occupied  himself  with  a  science  so  shift- 
ing in  its  phraseology  and  fluctuating  in  its  aspect,  as  the 
philosophy  of  intellect.  The  subject  is  contemplated  by 
the  original  writer  and  the  critic  from  very  different  points 
of  view,  the  parts  are  differently  distributed,  the  nomen- 
clature is  not  the  same,  and  changes  in  the  mode  of  state- 
ment are  mistaken  for  contrarieties  of  opinion.  The  sense 
in  which  a  particular  doctrine  is  affirmed  or  denied,  must 
be  gathered  from  contemporary  writers,  and  a  careful  ex- 
amination of  the  ends,  which  the  subject  of  criticism  had  in 
view.  From  inattention  to  these  requisites.  Cousin's  esti- 
mate of  Locke's  merits  as  a  philosopher  does  not  seem  to 
us  to  possess  even  tolerable  correctness.  He  has  not  car- 
ried his  mind  back  to  the  period  when  the  "  Essay  "  was 
written,  nor  judged  of  its  leading  doctrines  in  reference  to 


128  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

the  opinions  which  called  them  forth,  and  which  they  were 
designed  to  refute.  But  he  has  brought  the  work  down  to 
the  present  day,  and,  applying  to  it  the  standard  which  be- 
longs to  another  school,  has  found  nothing  but  variety  and 
opposition,  where  there  was  frequently  coincidence,  and 
even  identity  of  doctrine.  He  has  stretched  Locke  upon 
the  Procrustes  bed  of  modern  German  metaphysics,  and 
then  proceeded  to  lop  off  a  joint  here  and  extend  a  member 
there,  when  a  little  care  and  management  would  have 
shown,  that  between  the  recumbent  figure  and  the  couch, 
there  was  no  such  vast  disproportion  after  all.  Wherever 
differences  of  opinion,  that  cannot  be  reconciled,  actually 
exist,  we  apprehend  that  Locke  will  be  found  in  the  right 
quite  as  often  as  his  antagonist.  But  of  such  differences 
we  say  nothing  for  the  present.  Our  point  now  is,  to  show 
that  Cousin  has  often  misunderstood  Locke,  and  censured 
him  for  holding  opinions  which  were  never  present  to  his 
mind,  and  which  he  would  not  have  avowed  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. 

What  was  Locke's  chief  purpose  in  writing  the  greater 
part  of  his  celebrated  Essay  ?  To  confute  the  Cartesian 
doctrine  of  Innate  Ideas.  What  is  the  leading  object  of 
Cousin's  lectures  ?  To  controvert  that  French  system  of 
philosophy,  which  traces  all  knowledge  to  sensation.  The 
former  argues,  that  the  hypothesis  of  innate  ideas  is  un- 
necessary, if  it  can  be  shown,  that  the  mind  possesses 
means  or  faculties  through  which,  hy  experience^  (that  is, 
by  use  of  these  faculties,)  it  can  attain  all  the  knowledge 
which  it  is  found  to  possess.  His  point  is  proved,  if  it  be 
made  to  appear,  that  all  knowledge  comes  after  experience ; 
for  then  the  doctrine,  that  ideas  exist  in  the  mind  antece- 
dent to  any  use  of  the  faculties,  falls  to  the  ground.  The 
end  which  Locke  proposed  to  himself  is  fully  enunciated  in 
the  dictum  of  Kant,  "  that  all  knowledge  legins  with  expe- 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  129 

rience."  Cousin's  object  is  to  identify  the  doctrines  of 
Locke  with  those  of  the  French  Sensualists,  —  to  whip 
them  over  his  back.  The  system  which  is  really  confuted 
in  these  lectures  is  that  of  Condillac,  the  pages  of  Locke 
being  searched  for  those  expressions  and  forms  of  state- 
ment, which  seem  to  convey  opinions  most  favorable  to  the 
Sensual  theory.  Unluckily,  the  loose  and  inaccurate  lan- 
guage and  endless  repetitions,  which  Locke  employs,  too 
frequently  favor  this  proceeding.  Amid  the  many  dissimi- 
lar doctrines,  which  may  be  extracted  from  the  contradictory 
passages  and  careless  statements  of  the  "  Essay  on  Human 
Understanding,"  fairness  requires  us  to  select  those,  as  con- 
veying the  real  opinions  of  the  writer,  which  conform  most 
nearly  to  the  end  which  he  had  in  view.  We  have  shown, 
that  this  end  is  attained  by  giving  that  interpretation  to 
Locke's  language,  which  makes  it  convey  a  doctrine,  that  is 
expressly  sanctioned  by  Kant  and  Cousin  himself. 

Locke  ascribes  the  origin  or  beginning  of  our  knowledge 
to  the  two  faculties  of  Sensation  and  Reflection.  Some- 
times he  appears  to  maintain,  that  all  our  ideas  proceed 
from  these  sources ;  then  again  his  language  implies,  that 
our  knowledge  comes  through  these  faculties,  or  is  first 
manifested  on  occasion  of  their  exercise.  Instances  of  the 
former  mode  of  expressing  the  doctrine  are  cited  in  suffi- 
cient number  by  Cousin.  As  examples  falling  under  the 
second  class,  take  the  following  extracts,  which  may  be 
multiplied  at  pleasure. 

"  There  are  some  (ideas)  that  make  themselves  way  and  are  sug" 
gested  to  the  mind  by  all  the  ways  of  sensation  and  reflection."  — 
Books.  Chap.  lii.  §  1. 

"  Existence  and  unity  are  two  other  ideas,  that  are  suggested 
to  the  understanding  by  every  object  without  and  every  idea  with- 
in."—Book  2.  Chap.  vii.  ^7. 

*'  By  observing  what  passes  in  our  minds,  how  our  ideas  there  in 


130  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

train  constantly  some  vanish,  and  others  begin  to  appear,  we  come 
hy  the  idea  of  succession."  —  Book  2.  Chap.  xiv.  ^  31. 

''  Among  all  the  ideas  we  have,  as  there  is  none  suggested  to  the 
mind  hij  more  loays,  so  there  is  none  more  simple  than  that  of  unity, 
or  one."  —  Book  2.  Chap.  xvi.  ^  1. 

"  Being  capable  of  no  other  simple  ideas,  belonging  to  any 
thing  but  body,  but  those  which  by  reflection  we  receive  from  the 
operation  of  our  mind,  we  can  attribute  to  spirits  no  other  but 
what  we  receive  from  thence."  —  Book  2.  Chap,  xxiii.  ^  36. 

The  language  in  this  last  extract  is  strictly  precise  and 
accurate,  for  reflection  is  represented  in  its  true  function,  as 
the  vehicle,  not  the  source,  of  the  knowledge  which  it  is 
said  to  communicate.  Jn  the  other  extracts,  the  same  doc- 
trine is  conveyed,  though  in  phraseology  not  equally  clear; 
the  act  of  reflection  or  sensation  suggests  the  idea,  but  does 
not  impart  it ;  in  other  words,  the  act  marks  the  occasion 
on  which  the  knowledge  is  developed.  We  believe  this 
statement  conveys  Locke's  real  opinion,  in  spite  of  the  un- 
guarded language  so  frequently  used  throughout  the  Essay. 
He  intended  to  mark  the  chronological,  not  the  logical, 
succession  of  our  ideas,  intentionally  passing  over  the 
latter  branch  of  the  inquiry,  as  the  consideration  of  it  was 
unnecessary  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  chief  purpose, 
—  the  refutation  of  Descartes.  His  theory  interpreted  in 
this  manner,  when  tried  by  the  standard  of  our  modern 
philosophy,  appears  correct  as  far  as  it  goes.  Indeed,  his 
doctrine  respecting  the  functions  of  sensation  and  reflection, 
representing  them  as  the  only  avenues  of  intelligence,  is  not 
merely  the  only  true,  but  the  only  possible,  description 
of  the  beginning  of  knowledge.  The  two  worlds  of  matter 
and  mind  are  the  only  objects  of  human  cognition.  We 
can  know  the  former  only  by  the  agency  of  that  faculty 
which,  —  whether  it  be  a  simple  or  compound  activity, 
whether  it  afford  results  that  are  pure,  or  those  only  which 
are  colored  and  modified  by  the  constitution  of  the  recipi- 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  131 

ent,  —  is  always  denominated  sensation.  We  learn  the 
phenomena  of  mind  only  through  that  power,  —  call  it  re- 
flection, consciousness,  or  what  you  please,  —  through 
which  the  thinking  subject  takes  cognizance  of  self. 

In  criticising  this  account  of  the  origin  of  the  ideas, 
Cousin  objects,  "  that  Locke  evidently  confounds  reflection 
with  consciousness.  Reflection,  in  strict  language,  is  un- 
doubtedly a  faculty  analogous  to  consciousness,  but  distinct 
from  it,  and  pertains  more  particularly  to  the  philosopher, 
while  consciousness  pertains  to  every  man  as  an  intellectual 
being."  It  would  be  quite  as  well  to  show  that  the  two 
things  are  really  distinct,  before  blaming  Locke  for  con- 
founding them.  On  this  point,  it  seems  plain  to  us,  that 
Locke  is  right  and  his  critic  is  wrong.  The  distinction 
usually  stated  between  consciousness  and  reflection  is,  that 
the  former  is  the  immediate  witness,  while  the  latter  is  the 
reviewer,  of  the  operations  of  mind  ;  mental  phenomena  as 
they  rise  are  taken  notice  of  by  the  one,  while  they  must 
be  recalled  or  presented  anew  before  they  are  subject  to 
the  inspection  of  the  other.  Taken  in  this  sense,  we  deny- 
that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  immediate  and  active  con- 
sciousness, distinct  from  the  mental  act.  A  cognition  and 
the  consciousness  of  that  cognition  are  one  and  the  same 
thing.  A  single  perception  is  simple  and  indivisible  ;  it 
cannot  be  analyzed  into  a  fact  and  the  consciousness  of 
that  fact,  for  the  event  itself  being  an  act  of  knowing,  it 
does  not  exist,  if  it  be  not  known  to  exist.  In  one  act  of 
perception  there  is  but  one  object,  —  the  thing  perceived  ; 
while  the  hypothesis  of  a  distinct  and  independent  con- 
sciousness requires  two,  —  the  thing  perceived  and  the  ob- 
ject of  the  consciousness,  which  is  the  perception  itself 
There  is  this  farther  absurdity  in  the  doctrine  in  question, 
that  it  requires  every  cognitive  act  to  be  followed  by  an 
infinite  series  of  repetitions  of  itself ;  I  am  conscious,  first 


132  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

of  the  original  thought,  and  then  of  that  act  of  conscious- 
ness, and  so  on  for  ever.  The  truth  seems  to  be,  that 
whenever  we  are  occupied  with  any  subject  of  investiga- 
tion, except  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  the  current  of 
thought  runs  on  unchecked,  the  attention  being  wholly  fas- 
tened on  the  object  of  study,  and  the  relation  between  the 
successive  ideas  and  the  thinking  person,  the  me.,  never  at- 
tracting: our  notice.  In  such  a  state,  of  which  the  condition 
of  a  person  absorbed  in  mathematical  studies  may  be  taken 
as  an  example,  there  is,  properly  speaking,  neither  reflec- 
tion nor  consciousness.  But  when  we  examine  the  phe- 
nomena of  our  own  minds,  the  train  of  ideas,  so  to  speak, 
is  continually  doubling  back  on  itself.  The  feeling  cannot 
exist, —  the  mental  phenomenon  cannot  be  manifested, — 
and  be  examined  at  the  same  instant.  The  metaphysician, 
like  the  anatomist,  must  operate  on  the  dead  subject.  He 
does  not  study  the  present  state  of  his  own  mind,  for  the 
very  reason,  that  his  mind  is  now  engaged  in  study,  and 
does  not  manifest  the  phenomena  in  question ;  but  he  ex- 
amines his  recollection  of  what  was  its  condition  a  moment 
before,  when  it  put  forth  the  feeling,  or  existed  under  the 
phasis,  which  is  now  the  object  of  his  researches.  What  is 
called  consciousness  is  always  a  reflex  act,  never  immedi- 
ate. Locke  is  not  only  right  in  admitting  but  one  faculty, 
but  the  appellation  he  gives  to  it  is  the  better  chosen  of  the 
two. 

Cousin  devotes  nearly  a  whole  lecture  to  a  minute  exam- 
ination of  Locke's  theory  respecting  the  idea  of  Space. 
The  criticism  is  founded  entirely  on  Kant's  doctrine  re- 
specting the  same  idea,  though  the  skeptical  conclusion  of 
the  German  philosopher,  that  space  has  no  objective  exist- 
ence, is  not  admitted  by  his  French  copyist.  Respecting 
the  justice  of  the  criticism  we  have  nothing  to  say,  except 
to  remark  on  the  unfairness  of  accusing  Locke  of  confound- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  133 

ing  the  two  ideas  of  body  and  space,  while  the  very  oppo- 
site doctrine  is  maintained  in  the  "  Essay,"  and  the  essen- 
tial difference  between  the  two  conceptions  is  established  at 
great  length.  Cousin's  proof  of  this  charge  is  so  curious, 
that  we  extract  the  passage. 

"  Locke  says  ;  'the  idea  o^ 'place  we  have  by  the  same  means  that 
we  get  the  idea  of  space,  (whereof  this  is  but  a  particular  and  lim- 
ited consideration,)  namely,  by  our  sight  and  touch*****.' 
Same  chapter,  same  section  ;  '  to  say  that  the  world  is  some- 
where, means  no  more  than  that  it  does  exist;  *****.'  It  is 
clear,  that  is  to  say,  that  the  space  [?]  of  the  universe  is  equivalent 
to  neither  more  nor  less  than  to  the  universe  itself,  and  as  the  idea 
of  the  universe  is,  after  all,  nothing  but  the  idea  of  body,  it  is  to 
this  idea,  that  the  idea  of  space  is  reduced.  Such  is  the  necessary 
genesis  of  the  idea  of  space  in  the  system  of  Locke."  * 

We  now  give  at  length  the  two  sentences,  of  which  Cou- 
sin has  quoted  but  a  small  part. 

*'  That  our  idea  of  place  is  nothing  else  but  such  a  relative  po- 
sition of  any  thing,  as  I  have  before  mentioned,  I  think  is  plain, 
and  will  be  easily  admitted,  when  we  consider  that  we  can  have 
no  idea  of  the  place  of  the  universe,  though  we  can  of  all  the  parts 
of  it ;  because  beyond  that  we  have  not  the  idea  of  any  fixed,  dis- 
tinct, particular  beings,  in  reference  to  which  we  can  imagine  it  to 
have  any  relation  of  distance  ;  but  all  beyond  it  is  one  uniform  space 
or  expansion,  wherein  the  mind  finds  no  variety,  no  marks.  For  to  say 
that  the  world  is  somewhere,  means  no  more  than  that  it  does  ex- 
ist; this,  though  a  phrase  borrowed  from  place,  signifying  only 
its  existence,  not  location  ;  and  when  one  can  find  out  and  frame 
in  his  mind,  clearly  and  distinctly,  the  place  of  the  universe,  he 
will  be  able  to  tell  us  whether  it  moves  or  stands  still  in  the  undis- 
tinguishable  inane  of  infinite  space  :  though  it  be  true,  that  the 
word  place  has  sometimes  a  more  confused  sense,  and  stands  for  the 
space  lohich  any  body  takes  up ;  and  so  the  universe  is  in  a  place.  ^^  f 

*  Elements  of  Psychology,  pp.  79,  80. 

t  Locke,  on  Human  Understanding,  Book  2.  Ch.  xiii.  §  10. 

12 


134  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

Locke's  doctrine  clearly  is,  that  place  is  mere  "  relation 
of  distance" ;  therefore  he  affirms,  that  we  have  no  idea  of 
the  place  of  the  universe,  because  the  universe  has  no  fixed 
points  of  reference  beyond  itself.  Cousin  adopts  that  other 
"  more  confused  sense "  of  the  word  place^  by  which  it 
stands  for  the  space  which  any  body  takes  up,  though  Locke 
expressly  mentions  this  meaning  of  the  term,  and  admits, 
that,  in  this  sense,  the  universe  is  in  a  place.  It  is  but  right 
to  add,  that  this  is  the  only  instance  we  have  noticed  in 
Cousin  of  gross  unfairness  in  making  quotations.  The  per- 
version of  meaning  which  is  here  caused  by  garbling  the 
passage  is  quite  ludicrous.  But  it  was  necessary  in  order 
to  afford  a  peg,  on  which  to  hang  a  long  argument,  all  bor- 
rowed from  Kant,  respecting  the  opposition  between  the 
ideas  of  body  and  space. 

The  chapter  on  the  origin  of  our  idea  of  Duration  is  one 
of  the  most  satisfactory  portions  of  Locke's  whole  treatise. 
The  doctrine  is  so  fully  stated  and  with  such  clearness  of 
language,  that  we  know  not  how  to  account  for  Cousin's 
entire  misconception  of  its  meaning.  Locke  affirms,  that 
the  idea  of  time  is  first  acquired  by  reflecting  upon  the  suc- 
cession of  our  ideas,  and  this  account  receives  the  full  as- 
sent of  his  critic.  In  proof  of  this  doctrine,  Locke  men- 
tions the  fact,  that  when  the  succession  of  ideas  ceases,  our 
perception  of  duration  ceases  along  with  it ;  as,  for  exam- 
ple, in  dreamless  sleep  or  profound  reverie,  where  the  cur- 
rent of  thought  is  stopped,  or  is  concentrated  on  a  single 
idea.  Will  it  be  believed,  that  on  the  ground  of  this  simple 
illustration,  he  is  charged  with  confounding  the  two  distinct 
ideas  of  succession  and  duration,  the  measure  and  the  thing 
measured,  and  consequently  with  maintaining  the  monstrous 
doctrine,  that  when  the  train  of  thought  stops,  time  stops 
also }  Cousin  says,  that  the  necessary  consequence  of 
Locke's  theory  is,  that  the  timepiece,  which  marked  the 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  135 

lapse  of  hours  during  the  sleep  was  wrong ;  "  and  the  sun, 
like  the  timepiece,  should  have  stopped."  We  copy  Cous- 
in's own  quotation. 

"  That  we  have  our  notion  of  succession  and  duration  from  this 
original,  viz.  from  reflection  on  the  train  of  ideas  which  we  find  to  ap- 
pear one  after  another  in  our  own  minds,  seems  plain  to  me  in  that 
we  have  no  perception  of  duration,  but  by  considering  the  train  of 
ideas  that  take  their  turns  in  our  understandings.  When  that  succes- 
sion of  ideas  ceases,  our  perception  of  duration  ceases  with  it  ;  which 
every  one  clearly  experiments  in  himself,  whilst  he  sleeps  soundly, 
whether  an  hour  or  a  day,  a  month  or  a  year  ;  of  which  duration  of 
things,  while  he  sleeps  or  thinks  not,  he  has  no  perception  at  all, 
but  it  is  quite  lost  to  him  ;  and  the  moment  wherein  he  leaves  off  to 
think,  till  the  moment  he  begins  to  think  agahi,  seems  to  him  to 
have  no  distance.  And  so  I  doubt  not  it  would  be  to  a  waking 
man,  if  it  were  possible  for  him  to  keep  only  one  idea  in  his  mind, 
without  variation  and  the  succession  of  others."* 

Can  any  language  more  clearly  repudiate  the  very  con- 
sequence which  Cousin  endeavors  to  draw  ?  It  is  not  du- 
ration itself,  which  ceases  while  we  sleep,  but  "  our  per- 
ception of  duration " ;  the  timepiece  goes  right,  but  the 
"  perception  of  the  time  is  quite  lost  to  him  "  who  sleeps. 
The  critic  surely  does  not  mean  to  deny  the  fact,  that  ia 
sound  slumber  we  are  unconscious  of  the  flight  of  hours. 
To  remove  all  doubt,  in  another  section  of  the  sam.e  chap- 
ter, the  2 1  st,  Locke  directly  controverts  the  very  doctrine  here 
put  into  his  mouth.  "  We  must  therefore  carefully  distin- 
guish betwixt  duration  itself,  and  the  measures  we  make  use 
of  to  judge  of  its  length  " ;  and  in  a  subsequent  part  of  the 
same  section,  "the  train  of  our  own  ideas"  is  mentioned, 
as  being  this  measure.  And  yet  Cousin  argues  at  great 
length  this  point,  as  if  in  opposition  to  Locke,  finding  under 
this  head  no  other  heresy  with  which  to  accuse  the  English 
philosopher.     It  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  method  of  setting 

*  Locke,  on  Human  Understanding,  Book  2.  Ch.  xiv.  §  4. 


136  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

up  pins,   that  one   may  have    the  pleasure    of  knocking 
them  down  again.     Better  instances  still  are  to  come. 

The  idea  of  the  Infinite  is  the  next  point,  on  which  our 
author  tries  his  strength  with  the  founder  of  the  Empirical 
school,  as  it  is  called.  We  shall  not  enter  into  the  general 
discussion  on  this  point,  though  it  forms  the  corner-stone  of 
the  Eclectic  system,  for  it  has  already  been  discussed  and 
refuted  with  great  ability  by  the  present  accomplished  pro- 
fessor of  logic  at  Edinburgh,  whose  article  on  the  subject, 
though  well  known  to  Cousin,  he  has  for  sound  reasons 
never  attempted  to  answer.  Our  remarks  will  be  confined 
to  the  incidental  glimpse  of  this  theory,  which  is  afforded 
in  the  commentary  upon  Locke.  The  following  paragraph 
contains  the  substance  of  the  criticism  on  this  head. 

"  After  having  sported  awhile  with  the  idea  of  the  infinite  as 
obscure,  Locke  objects  again  that  it  is  purely  negative,  that  it  has 
nothing  positive  in  it.  B.  II.  eh.  XVII.  ^  13;  '  We  have  no  posi- 
tive idea  of  infinity.'  ^  16  ;  '  We  have  no  positive  idea  of  an  in- 
finite duration.'  '^  18  ;  'We  have  no  positive  idea  of  infinite 
space.'  Here  we  have  the  accusation,  so  often  since  repeated, 
against  the  conceptions  of  reason,  that  they  are  not  positive.  But 
first,  observe,  that  there  can  no  more  be  an  idea  of  succession 
without  the  idea  of  time,  than  of  time  without  the  previous  idea 
of  succession  ;  and  no  more  idea  of  body  without  the  idea  of 
space,  than  of  space  without  the  previous  idea  of  body;  that  is  to 
say,  there  can  no  more  be  the  idea  of  the  finite  without  the  idea 
of  infinite,  than  of  the  infinite  without  the  previous  idea  of  the 
finite.  From  whence  it  follows  in  strictness,  that  these  ideas  sup- 
pose each  other,  and,  if  any  one  pleases  to  say,  reciprocally  limit 
each  other;  and  consequently,  the  idea  of  the  infinite  is  no  more 
the  negative  of  that  of  the  finite,  than  the  idea  of  the  finite  is  the 
negative  of  that  of  the  infinite.  They  are  both  negatives  on  the 
same  ground,  or  they  are  both  positives;  for  they  are  two  si- 
multaneous affirmations,  and  every  affirmation  gives  a  positive 
idea."* 

*  Elements  of  Psychology,  p.  109. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  137 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  any  writer  on  philosophy 
a  more  remarkable  instance  of  confused  thought  and  in- 
correct reasoning.  Because  the  idea  of  body  involves  that 
of  space,  and  succession  presupposes  time,  therefore^  the 
conception  of  the  finite  necessarily  requires  that  of  the  in- 
finite. If  he  had  said,  that  because  bread  is  fabricated  of 
flour,  therefore  the  moon  consists  of  green  cheese,  the  logic 
would  be  quite  as  conclusive.  Because  in  a  given  instance, 
two  ideas  mutually  contain  and  limit  each  other,  it  does 
not  follow  that  any  other  two,  taken  at  random,  bear  the 
same  correlation.  The  argument  means  nothing  at  all, 
unless  the  premise  be  construed  into  the  affirmation,  that 
the  conception  of  body  involves  that  of  infinite  space,  and 
succession  presupposes  eternity  ;  and  in  this  form,  the  ar- 
gument takes  for  granted  the  very  point  in  question.  More- 
over, the  assertion  when  thus  interpreted  is  wholly  untrue. 
The  idea  of  pure  space  is  the  only  necessary  concomitant 
of  body,  that  of  infinite  space  being  a  subsequent  deduction 
of  the  reason.  Still  further,  the  relations  between  the  ideas 
in  the  two  cases  are  wholly  dissimilar,  the  comparison 
being  drawn  between  perfectly  incongruous  things.  The 
proposition,  that  the  finite  presupposes  the  infinite,  corre- 
sponds to  the  assertion,  that  eternity  is  implied  in  time,  or 
unlimited  expansion  in  bounded  extension.  The  relation 
between  body  and  space,  succession  and  duration,  belongs 
to  a  different  category. 

The  assertion  of  Locke,  that  the  infinite  is  to  our  minds 
only  a  negative  idea,  as  it  is  defended  by  those  who  were 
never  suspected  of  favoring  the  doctrines  of  Condillac,  is 
not  enough  to  identify  him  with  the  Sensualist  school. 
Cousin  seeks  for  some  remark,  which  shall  appear  tanta- 
mount to  a  denial  of  the  existence  of  any  such  idea,  but 
can  find  nothing  which  answers  his  purpose  better  than 
the  following ;  "  Number  affords  us  the  clearest  idea  of 
12* 


138  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

infinity."  This  observation  is  construed  to  mean,  that  the 
idea  in  every  case  may  be  resolved  into  that  of  number ; 
though  it  really  affirms  no  such  thing,  for  it  is  not  said,  that 
number  gives  us  the  07ily  notion  of  the  infinite,  but  that  the 
clearest  conception  of  it  is  derived  from  this  source.  In 
many  passages  of  the  same  chapter,  Locke  expatiates  upon 
this  idea  as  applicable  to  time,  space,  and  the  attributes  of 
the  Supreme  Being.  On  the  latter  point  he  holds  the  fol- 
lowing decisive  language.  "  I  think  it  unavoidable  for  ev- 
ery considering  rational  creature,  that  will  but  examine  his 
own  or  any  other  existence,  to  have  the  notion  of  an  eternal 
wise  Being,  who  had  no  beginning ;  and  such  an  idea  of 
infinite  duration  I  am  sure  I  have." 

But,  though  the  assertion  should  be  held  to  convey  all  the 
meaning  that  Cousin  attributes  to  it,  we  may  well  ask,  What 
follows  ?  The  reply  is  so  curious,  that  it  deserves  to  be 
given  in  the  writer's  own  words. 

"  But  what  is  number?  It  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  such  or  such 
a  number  ;  for  every  number  is  a  determinate  number.  It  is  then 
a  finite  number,  whatever  it  may  be.  Raise  the  figure  as  high  as 
you  please,  the  number,  as  such,  is  only  a  particular  number,  an 
element  of  succession,  and  consequently  a  finite  element.  Number 
is  the  parent  of  succession,  not  of  duration  ;  number  and  succes- 
sion measure  time,  but  are  not  adequate  to  it,  and  do  not  consti- 
tute it. 

"  The  reduction  of  the  infinite  to  number  is,  then,  the  reduction 
of  time  infinite,  to  its  measure  indefinite,  that  is,  to  the  finite;  just 
as,  in  regard  to  space,  the  reduction  of  space  to  body  is  the  reduc- 
tion of  the  infinite  to  the  finite.  Now  to  reduce  the  infinite  to  the 
finite  is  to  destroy  it ;  it  is  to  destroy  the  belief  of  the  human  race  ; 
but  as  before  observed,  it  saves  the  system  of  Locke."* 

"  Every  number  is  a  determinate  number."  What  mean 
then  the  surds,  the  imaginary  quantities,  and  the  injinite 
series  of  the  algebraist }     As  to  the  remainder  of  the  argu- 

*  Elements  of  Psychology,  p.  111. 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  139 

ment  against  the  infinity  of  number,  we  have  only  to  re- 
mark, that  it  is  equally  applicable  to  our  ideas  of  infinite 
space  and  time.  Whatever  force  the  reasoning  may  have, 
in  Cousin's  theory,  it  is  suicidal.  If  we  were  disposed  to 
profit  by  the  unlucky  admissions  of  our  author,  the  sen- 
tence, which  immediately  succeeds  the  passage  quoted 
above,  would  afford  a  rich  field  for  comment.  "  In  fact,  the 
infinite  can  be  found  neither  in  sense,  nor  consciousness, 
but  the  finite  can  be  found  there  wonderfully  well."  We 
would  fain  be  told,  where  the  idea  of  the  infinite  is  found 
upon  this  hypothesis.  In  the  reason,  doubtless ;  but  how 
does  reason  manifest  itself,  except  through  consciousness  ? 
If  we  are  not  conscious  of  any  ideas  or  truths  given  by  this 
faculty,  for  all  practical  purposes,  it  would  seem,  they  might 
as  well  be  withheld  altogether. 

The  criticism  upon  Locke's  account  of  Personal  Identity 
is,  in  the  main,  just  and  clearly  expressed.  The  chapter 
upon  the  subject  is  one  of  the  most  unsatisfactory  passages 
in  the  whole  Essay,  the  doctrine  leading  to  the  most  ab- 
surd consequences,  which  were  perceived,  and  yet  intrepid- 
ly avowed  and  supported  by  the  writer.  We  are  at  a  loss 
how  to  account  for  the  error,  especially  as  the  natural 
course  of  Locke's  speculations  by  no  means  leads  to  such  a 
wild  doctrine,  and  the  great  blunder  in  it,  that  of  confound- 
ing the  witness,  or  evidence  of  identity  with  identity  itself, 
is  at  variance  with  every  other  portion  of  the  theory. 

But  as  the  remarks  on  our  idea  of  Substance  in  general 
present  no  such  unfortunate  matter  for  criticism,  Cousin,  as 
usual,  manufactures  a  theory  on  the  subject,  which  he  puts 
into  the  mouth  of  Locke,  and  then  proceeds  to  refute  it 
with  great  earnestness  and  ability.  The  account  which 
Locke  really  gives,  is  one  that  coincides  perfectly  with  all 
later  speculations  on  the  subject ;  namely,  that  our  concep- 
tion of  any  particular  substance  is  a  mere  congeries  of  our 
ideas  of  various  qualities  or  properties,  together  with  a  sup- 


140  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

position  of  something  else,  in  which  these  attributes  inhere, 
and  which  we  call  Substance  in  general.  On  this  plain  and 
self-evident  statement,  he  goes  on  to  build  up  his  argument 
against  the  materialists  of  his  day,  —  an  argument,  which, 
as  it  uproots  from  the  foundation  the  degrading  hypothesis 
against  which  it  is  directed,  has  been  reproduced  in  one 
form  or  another  by  almost  every  metaphysician  since  his 
time,  who  has  adopted  the  distinction  between  body  and 
spirit.  The  version  of  it  by  Dugald  Stewart  we  extract 
from  the  first  volume  of  his  work  on  the  "  Philosophy  of 
Mind." 

"  The  notions  we  annex  to  the  words  matter  2ind  mind,  as  is  well 
remarked  by  Dr.  Reid,  are  merely  relative.  If  I  am  asked  what  I 
mean  by  matter,  I  can  only  explain  myself  by  saying,  it  is  that 
which  is  extended,  figured,  colored,  movable,  hard  or  soft,  rough 
or  smooth,  hot  or  cold  ;  that  is,  I  can  define  it  in  no  other  way, 
than  by  enumerating  its  sensible  qualities.  It  is  not  matter  or 
body,  which  I  perceive  by  my  senses;  but  only  extension,  figure, 
color,  and  certain  other  qualities,  which  the  constitution  of  my  na- 
ture leads  me  to  refer  to  something  which  is  extended,  figured, 
and  colored.  The  case  is  precisely  similar  with  respect  to  mind. 
We  are  not  immediately  conscious  of  its  existence,  but  we  are 
conscious  of  sensation,  thought,  and  volition  ;  operations  which 
imply  the  existence  of  something  which  feels,  thinks,  and  wills. 
Every  man  too  is  impressed  with  an  irresistible  conviction,  that  all 
these  sensations,  thoughts,  and  volitions  belong  to  one  and  the 
same  being  ;  to  that  being  which  he  calls  himself;  a  being,  which 
he  is  led  by  the  constitution  of  his  nature,  to  consider  as  some- 
thing distinct  from  his  body,  and  as  not  liable  to  be  impaired  by 
the  loss  or  mutilation  of  any  of  his  organs." 

With  his  usual  candor  and  deference  towards  his  old  in- 
structor, Stewart  here  avows,  that  he  borrows  from  Dr. 
Reid  ;  but  with  how  much  justice  he  attributes  the  origin 
of  the  argument  to  this  writer,  our  readers  may  judge  by 
the  following  quotations  from  Locke. 

"  As  dear  an  idea  of  spirit  as  body.  —  The  same  happens  con- 
cerning the  operations  of  the  mind,  viz.  thinking,  reasoning,  fear- 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  141 

ing,  &c.  which  we,  concluding  not  to  subsist  of  themselves,  nor 
apprehending  how  they  can  belong  to  body,  or  be  produced  by  it, 
we  are  apt  to  think  these  the  actions  of  some  other  substance, 
which  we  call  spirit ;  whereby  yet  it  is  evident,  that  having  no  oth- 
er idea  or  notion  of  matter  but  something  wherein  those  many  sen- 
sible qualities  which  affect  our  senses,  do  subsist ;  by  suppos- 
ing a  substance,  wherein  thinking,  knowing,  doubting,  and  a  pow- 
er of  moving,  &c.  do  subsist,  we  have  as  clear  a  notion  of  the  sub- 
stance of  spirit,  as  we  have  of  body ;  the  one  being  supposed  to  be 
(without  knowing  what  it  is)  the  substratum  to  those  simple  ideas 
we  have  from  without ;  and  the  other  supposed  (with  a  like  igno- 
rance of  what  it  is)  to  be  the  substratum  to  those  operations  we  ex- 
periment in  ourselves  within.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  the  idea  of  cor- 
poreal substance  in  matter,  is  as  remote  from  our  conceptions  and 
apprehensions,  as  that  of  spiritual  substance  or  spirit :  and  there- 
fore, from  our  not  having  any  notion  of  the  substance  of  spirit,  we 
can  no  more  conclude  its  non-existence,  than  we  can,  for  the  same 
reason,  deny  the  existence  of  body  ;  it  being  as  rational  to  affirm 
there  is  no  body,  because  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the 
substance  of  matter,  as  to  say  there  is  no  spirit,  because  we  have 
no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the  substance  of  a  spirit." 

"  Every  act  of  sensation,  when  duly  considered,  gives  us  an 
equal  view  of  both  parts  of  nature,  the  corporeal  and  spiritual. 
For  whilst  I  know,  by  seeing  or  hearing,  &c.  that  there  is  some 
corporeal  being  without  me,  the  object  of  that  sensation  ;  I  do 
more  certainly  know,  that  there  is  some  spiritual  being  within  me 
that  sees  and  hears.  This,  I  must  be  convinced,  cannot  be  the 
action  of  bare  insensible  matter;  nor  ever  could  be,  without  an  im- 
material thinking  being."  * 

The  impossibility  of  defining  substance  in  general,  other- 
wise than  as  something  in  which  certain  attributes  inhere,  is 
what  induced  Locke  to  repeat  so  frequently  the  assertion, 
that  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  this  common 
substratum.  But  that  he  did  not  intend  thereby  to  question 
or  deny  the  reality  of  substance,  or  of  our  idea  of  it,  such 
as  it  is,  appears  from  his  indignant  disavowal  of  the  charge 

*  Locke,  on  Human  Understanding,  Book  2.  Ch.  xxiii.  §  §  5,  15. 


142  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

in  the  letters  to  Bishop  Stillingfleet.     We  must  confine  our 
extract  to  a  single  sentence,  but  it  is  a  decisive  one. 

"  As  long  as  there  is  any  simple  idea  or  sensible  quality  left, 
according  to  .'my  way  of  arguing,  substance  cannot  be  discarded  ; 
because  all  simple  ideas,  all  sensible  qualities,  carry  with  them  a 
supposition  of  a  substratum  to  exist  in,  and  of  a  substance  wherein 
they  inhere;  and  of  this  that  whole  chapter  is  so  full,  that  I  chal- 
lenge any  one  who  reads  it  to  think  that  I  have  almost,  or  one  jot, 
discarded  substance  out  of  the  reasonable  part  of  the  world." 

It  appears  almost  incredible,  that  Cousin,  with  these  pas- 
sages before  him,  should  accuse  Locke  of  "  everywhere 
repelling  the  idea  of  substance,"  —  of  "  converting  sub- 
stance into  a  collection  and  making  all  things  to  be  words," 
—  of  "  a  systematic  identification  {nee  mens  hie  sermo  est.) 
of  substance  and  qualities,  of  being  and  phenomena."  But 
let  him  be  judged  by  his  own  words  and  quotations. 

*'  Locke,  however,  everywhere  repels  the  idea  of  substance,  and 
when  he  officially  explains  it,  he  resolves  it  into  a  collection  of 
simple  ideas  of  sensation,  or  of  reflection.  B.  IL  ch.  XXIII.  ^^  3, 
4,  6  ;  ******  no  other  idea  of  substances  than  what  is  framed 
by  a  collection  of  simple  ideas.'  ******  It  is  by  such  combinations 
of  simple  ideas,  and  nothing  else,  that  we  represent  particular 
sorts  of  substances  to  ourselves.'  "  * 

The  mistake  here  is  so  gross,  that  we  can  only  account 
for  it  on  the  supposition  of  the  writer's  imperfect  acquaint- 
ance with  the  English  language.  Cousin  speaks  of  "  sub- 
stance," in  the  singular,  that  is,  in  general ;  Locke,  of 
"  substances,"  in  the  plural,  that  is,  of  particular  bodies. 
Of  course,  the  latter's  real  opinion  is  the  very  one,  which 
his  critic  seeks  to  establish  against  him.  One  other  quota- 
tion is  made,  but  as  it  only  contains  the  denial  that  we  have 
any  "  clear  and  distinct "  idea  of  substance,  the   point  at 

*  Elements  of  Psychology ^  p.  119. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  143 

issue  is  not  affected  by  it.  Cousin's  arguments  are  wholly 
misapplied,  and  his  rhetoric  is  thrown  away. 

We  have  thus  far  followed  Cousin's  criticism  step  by 
step,  that  our  readers  might  judge  of  the  correctness  with 
which  Locke's  theory  is  expounded  by  him,  not  from  a  few 
instances  culled  here  and  there,  but  by  following  the  critic's 
own  track  from  the  very  commencement,  taking  all  the 
subjects  which  he  selected  for  attack,  and  considering  them 
in  his  own  order.  Out  of  the  first  five  points  examined, 
Locke  is  grossly  misrepresented  upon  four,  in  which  a 
doctrine  is  charged  upon  him,  that  he  repudiates  with  quite 
as  much  earnestness  as  his  critic.  We  do  not  accuse 
Cousin  of  intentional  misrepresentation,  but  he  seems  to 
have  commenced  his  work  with  a  preconceived  opinion, 
that  in  all  essential  respects  the  system  developed  in  the 
"  Essay  on  Human  Understanding "  must  coincide  with 
the  theory  of  Condillac.  He  can  see  nothing  which  makes 
against  this  hypothesis,  but  fights  most  manfully  against 
the  Sensual  system  of  his  own  countryman,  thinking  all  the 
time  that  he  is  contending  against  Locke.  So  far  as  the 
English  philosopher  is  concerned,  his  blows  are  all  spent 
upon  the  air. 

As  our  limits  do  not  permit  us  to  continue  this  minute 
examination  of  the  lectures,  we  pass  on  now  to  those  pas- 
sages, where  the  writer's  own  views  are  developed  at  great- 
er length,  and  where  the  opposition  between  him  and 
Locke  becomes  real  and  manifest.  Cousin  finds  fault  with 
the  order  which  is  given  for  the  acquisition  of  our  ideas ; 
he  denies  that  we  begin  with  simple  ideas  and  then  proceed 
to  those  which  are  complex,  because,  as  he  argues,  many 
of  our  faculties  come  into  exercise  at  once,  and  the  com- 
pound idea  that  is  formed  by  their  simultaneous  action,  must 
be  analyzed  by  a  subsequent  effort  of  the  understanding, 
before  we  arrive  at  simple  notions.     If  this  theory  be  given 


144  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

to  account  for  the  action  of  mind  in  its  mature  state,  it  is 
partially  correct ;  but  if  intended  to  describe  the  first  steps 
of  knowledge,  to  give  a  history  of  the  infant  mind,  and 
such  was  clearly  the  intention  of  Locke,  it  is  wholly  erro- 
neous. Of  course,  many  avenues  to  knowledge  are  opened 
at  once,  and  several  agencies  are  exerted  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. But  the  question  is,  whether  the  different  elements, 
coming  through  separate  channels,  are  at  once  referred  to 
the  same  object,  and  therefore  are  immediately  united 
and  bound  together  in  one  complex  idea.  All  observation 
proves  the  contrary.  The  infant  perceives  the  color  of  an 
object  long  before  he  ascertains  its  shape  by  touch,  still 
longer  before  he  connects  the  idea  of  figure  with  that  of 
variety  in  light  and  shade,  so  that  he  can  infer  the  tangible 
from  the  visible  qualities.  The  child  can  count  ten  before 
he  can  a  hundred.  Even  to  the  adult,  it  is  probable  that 
many  ideas  arrive  in  succession,  which,  from  the  quickness 
of  the  mental  operations,  appear  to  come  together.  The 
synthesis  really  precedes  the  analysis,  though  by  the  force 
of  habit,  the  former  operation  is  so  quickly  and  easily  per- 
formed, that  it  requires  an  effort  to  stay  the  process  and 
watch  the  steps  ;  just  as  the  eye  of  a  practised  accountant 
runs  over  a  column  of  figures  and  determines  their  sum, 
though  a  moment  afterwards  he  cannot  recollect  an  item 
in  the  list,  or  recall  one  step  in  the  addition.  A  compound 
habitually  formed  may  be  as  difficult  to  analyze,  as  one 
presented  to  us  in  the  first  instance.  Cousin  has  mistaken 
one  source  of  the  difficulty  for  another,  and  thus  shows 
himself  at  fault  in  the  first  requisite  of  his  method,  —  accu- 
rate observation. 

On  the  theory  of  general  ideas,  Locke,  like  most  other 
English  metaphysicians,  is  an  avowed  and  consistent  Nom- 
inalist. He  maintains,  that  general  terms  belong  not  to 
the  real  existence  of  things,  but  are  the  mere  creatures  of 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  145 

the  understanding,  formed  for  its  convenience,  and  relate 
only  to  signs,  whether  these  signs  be  words  or  ideas.  This 
doctrine  is  so  plain  and  self-evident,  that  it  seems  to  re- 
quire nothing  else  for  its  confirmation,  but  an  appeal  to 
consciousness.  All  the  objects  that  we  know  as  real  ex- 
istences are  particular,  and  any  proposition  framed  with 
respect  to  them  must  be  limited  in  its  application  to  the 
very  things,  that  are  specified  in  it.  The  truth  of  such  a 
proposition  may  be  tested  by  actual  experiment,  or,  through 
the  imagination,  by  the  picture  that  the  mind  forms  of  the 
object,  which  is  sufficiently  accurate  in  many  cases  to 
enable  us  to  decide  without  further  trouble,  whether  or  not 
the  assertion  conforms  to  the  truth.  But  when  abstract 
propositions  are  before  the  mind,  the  conceptive  or  i?nage- 
forming  faculty  is  at  rest,  and  no  reference  of  the  sign  to 
the  thing  signified  is  possible,  except  by  assuming  an  indi- 
vidual as  the  type  of  a  class.  The  possibility  of  reasoning 
in  some  cases  with  mere  words,  to  which  no  ideas  are  at- 
tached further  than  as  they  are  considered  in  certain  rela- 
tions to  each  other,  is  proved  by  the  existence  of  such  a 
science  as  algebra.  That  all  abstract  reasoning  is  of  this 
character  is  a  fact  equally  certain,  for  the  connexion  be- 
tween the  premises  and  conclusion  of  a  syllogism  depends 
entirely  on  the  relation  which  the  words  used  bear  to  each 
other,  and  is  independent  of  the  meaning  of  those  words ; 
the  examples  taken  in  a  treatise  upon  logic  being  usually 
nothing  but  letters  of  the  alphabet. 

Cousin  admits  all  this,  but  with  his  usual  parade  of  Ec- 
lecticism professes  to  find  some  truth  in  the  opposite  hy- 
pothesis. He  censures  Locke  for  his  exclusive  Nominalism, 
and  undertakes  to  show  in  opposition  to  him,  that  there  are 
some  general  ideas  which  imply  the  real  existence  of  their 
object.  Though  he  affirms,  that  "  there  is  equal  truth  and 
equal  error  in  the  two  theories,"  when  the  matter  comes 
13 


146  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

to  a  point,  he  adduces  but  two  examples  in  support  of 
Realism,  —  the  ideas  of  space  and  time.  The  selection 
was  certainly  unfortunate,  if  there  were  many  to  choose 
from,  but  we  suspect  that  they  were  the  only  instances  to 
be  found,  from  which  our  author  could  raise  the  shadow  of 
an  argument  in  support  of  the  Realist  hypothesis.  We 
copy  his  own  statement  of  the  proof. 

"  It  is  certain,  that  when  you  speak  of  space,  you  have  the  convic- 
tion, that  out  of  yourself  there  is  something  which  is  space  ;  as  also, 
when  you  speak  of  time,  you  have  the  conviction  that  there  is  out  of 
yourself  something  which  is  time,  although  you  know  neither  the 
nature  of  time  nor  of  space.  Different  times  and  different  spaces, 
are  not  the  constituent  elements  of  space  and  time  ;  time  and  space 
are  not  solely  for  you  the  collection  of  different  times  and  different 
spaces.  But  you  believe  that  time  and  space  are  in  themselves, 
that  it  is  not  two  or  three  spaces,  two  or  three  ages,  which  consti- 
tute space  and  time  ;  for,  every  thing  derived  from  experience, 
whether  in  respect  to  space  or  to  time,  is  finite,  and  the  character- 
istic of  space  and^of  time  for  you  is  to  be  infinite,  without  begin- 
ning and  without  end;  time  resolves  itself  into  eternity,  and  space 
into  immensity.  In  a  word,  an  invincible  belief  in  the  reality  of 
time  and  of  space,  is  attached  by  you  to  the  general  idea  of  time 
and  space.  This  is  what  the  human  mind  believes;  this  is  what 
consciousness  testifies.  Here  the  phenomenon  is  precisely  the  re- 
verse of  that  which  I  just  before  signalized  ;  and  while  the  general 
idea  of  a  book  does  not  suppose  in  the  mind  the  conviction  of  the 
existence  of  any  thing  which  is  book  in  itself,  here,  on  the  contrary, 
to  the  general  idea  of  time  and  of  space,  is  united  the  invincible 
conviction  of  the  reality  of  something  which  is  space  and  time."* 
We  say  nothing  here  of  the  writer's  inconsistency  in  ad- 
mitting so  large  a  portion  of  Kant's  system,  and  still  deny- 
ing, as  he  does  in  the  passage  before  us,  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  the  Critical  Philosophy,  —  the  subjective  char- 
acter of  space  and  time.     We   pass  over  the  incongruity, 

because,  in  relation  to  this  doctrine,  we  hold  with  Cousin 


Elements  of  Psychology,  pp.  187,  188. 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  147 

against  the  conclusions  of  Kant.  Certainly  we  believe  in 
the  reality  of  space  apart  from  the  mind  in  which  it  is  con- 
ceived. But  this  admission  tends  not  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree to  the  support  of  the  Realist  hypothesis,  unless  it  be 
shown  that  our  conception  of  space  is  properly  ranked 
among  universals,  or  general  ideas.  The  quiet  assumption 
of  this  important  step  in  the  argument  is  one  example, 
among  many  that  might  be  offered,  of  Cousin's  careless  and 
superficial  manner  of  observing  and  classifying  the  phe- 
nomena of  mind.  Unlimited  space  is  no  general  idea.  It 
is  not  the  name  of  a  class  comprehending  many,  individu- 
als under  it,  but  it  is  a  whole,  which  does  not  admit  even  of 
division  into  parts,  except  by  a  license  of  language,  as  it 
were,  for  the  convenience  of  separate  and  partial  consider- 
ation. A  particular  space  is  not  an  element  of  the  one, 
all-embracing  space,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  oxygen  is 
called  one  of  the  atmospherical  gases  ;  but  only  as  we 
speak  of  one  portion  of  the  atmosphere, —  that  contained 
in  a  room,  for  example, —  in  distinction  from  the  remain- 
der, which  is  without.  We  do  not  pass  from  limited  to  un- 
limited space,  as  we  do  from  a  particular  to  a  general  idea, 
that  is,  by  abstraction  and  synthesis  ;  but  only  by  an  en- 
largement of  the  primary  idea,  or,  more  properly  speak- 
ing, by  removing  an  arbitrary  and  fictitious  limit.  We 
commonly  speak,  indeed,  of  space  in  general  and  in  particu- 
lar, but  this  use  of  the  epithets  is  plainly  figurative,  referring 
only  to  the  entire  or  the  partial  consideration  of  one  idea. 
As  perfectly  similar  observations  are  applicable  to  our  con- 
ception of  time,  it  is  unnecessary  to  retrace  our  ground  in 
reference  to  this  idea.  The  attempt  of  Cousin,  therefore, 
on  the  basis  of  these  two  notions  of  space  and  time  to  build 
up  an  argument  in  favor  of  Realism,  must  be  regarded  as  a 
signal  failure,  as  founded  only  on  a  gross  misconception  of 
the  nature  of  the  two  examples  adduced. 


148  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  consider  the  criticism  upon  the  Ideal 
theory  as  adopted  by  Locke,  for  in  this  portion  of  his  la- 
bors our  author  has  merely  borrowed  the  doctrine  and  con- 
clusive reasoning  of  Reid  and  Stewart,  with  which  English 
readers  are  already  sufficiently  familiar.  The  hypothesis 
of  mediate  knowledge,  of  a  perception  of  things  only 
through  the  intervention  of  representative  ideas,  was  the 
great  mistake  of  the  philosophy  of  the  eighteenth  century, — 
the  capital  error  into  which  Locke  fell  in  common  with 
nearly  all  his  contemporaries  and  immediate  predecessors. 
The  refutation  of  this  theory  with  all  its  hurtful  consequen- 
ces is  the  great  service,  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  the 
Scotch  metaphysicians  of  our  own  day,  who  performed  the 
task  so  thoroughly  as  to  leave  nothing  for  their  successors 
to  accomplish.  We  do  not  blame  Cousin  for  adopting  their 
labors,  for  they  had  exhausted  the  subject,  and  no  course 
was  left,  but  to  use  their  materials,  or  to  pass  over  the  mat- 
ter altogether.  But  it  was  ungenerous  and  unfair  in  him  to 
charge  a  gross  exaggeration  of  the  exploded  doctrine  upon 
the  system  of  Locke.  It  is  not  true,  that  the  ideal  theory, 
as  maintained  by  Locke,  either  expressly  adopts  material- 
ism, or  even  leads  to  it  by  necessary  inference.  The  rep- 
resentative idea  may  be  an  image  of  its  object,  but  it  is  not 
a  material  image,  the  unsupported  assertion  of  Cousin  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding.  A  direct  statement  of  this 
sort,  without  argument  or  authority  to  support  it,  can  be 
met  only  by  a  blunt  denial  and  a  call  for  the  proofs. 

If  there  be  any  one  problem  in  philosophy,  which,  more 
than  all  others,  has  been  rendered  confused  and  intricate, 
not  from  any  intrinsic  difficulty,  but  from  the  imperfections 
of  language,  and  the  difficulty  of  translating  known  mental 
phenomena  into  words,  it  is  surely  the  question  respecting 
the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  In  practice,  no  one  ever  doubt- 
ed, or  can   doubt,  that  such  freedom  exists.     Actual  and 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  149 

firm-seated  Pyrrhonism  on  this  subject  is  impossible,  for  the 
voice  of  conscience,  the  mental  experience  of  every  mo- 
ment, and  the  intuitive  and  necessary  assent  of  the  under- 
standing, compel  us  to  believe,  and  we  constantly  act  out 
that  belief.  But  as  soon  as  we  attempt  to  express  the 
grounds  of  the  conviction,  difficulties  are  introduced  by  the 
phraseology  we  are  obliged  to  use,  and  every  step  in  the  ar- 
gument only  bewilders  us  still  more,  till  at  last  we  almost 
persuade  ourselves  to  doubt.  In  his  speculations  on  this 
subject,  Locke's  great  merit  consists  in  having  clearly  per- 
ceived this  source  of  error.  By  a  minute  examination  of 
the  phraseology  commonly  employed,  he  proved  that  the 
words  had  only  a  forced  and  metaphorical  application, 
while  their  literal  and  common  signification  is  perpetually 
recurring  to  the  mind,  and  leading  it  astray  from  the  real 
point  at  issue.  Thus,  the  designation  of  many  separate 
faculties  in  the  mind,  as  it  leads  to  the  supposition  of  so 
many  distinct  agents,  has  given  rise  to  the  question  whether 
the  will  be  free,  instead  of  the  only  natural  and  intelligible 
inquiry,  whether  the  man  be  free.  Will  is  only  a  power, 
and  as  necessity  implies  the  absence  of  power,  it  cannot  be 
predicated  of  the  will  without  a  contradiction.  The  neces- 
sitarian doctrine,  properly  understood,  amounts  to  a  denial, 
that  man  has  any  will  at  all,  and  is  therefore  opposed  by 
the  direct  evidence  of  consciousness. 

This  criticism  upon  language,  it  is  true,  throws  no  light 
upon  the  main  point  at  issue,  but  it  has  a  subsidiary  and  not 
unimportant  result  in  disclosing  one  great  cause  of  erro- 
neous reasoning  upon  the  subject.  It  is  quite  characteristic 
in  Cousin  wholly  to  misconceive  the  aim  and  purport  of  this 
speculation,  and  because  Locke  protests  against  the  appli- 
cation of  the  word  liberty  to  the  word  will,  to  understand 
thereby,  that  he  denies  freedom  "  to  the  will,  and  seeks  for 
it  either  in  the  thinking  faculty,  or  in  the  power  of  outward 
13* 


150  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

motion."  Why,  the  whole  gist  of  Locke's  argument  is  to 
prove,  that  liberty  cannot  be  predicated  of  the  willing  fac- 
ulty, the  thinking  faculty,  the  moving  faculty,  or  any  other 
faculty,  but  only  of  the  man, —  the  indivisible  Ego  of  con- 
sciousness. The  proof  of  human  freedom  is  considered 
afterwards,  and  placed  precisely  where  Fichte  and  many  of 
the  later  German  philosophers  have  placed  it ;  namely,  in 
the  power,  which  the  thinking  subject  possesses,  when  in 
presence  of  two  or  more  diverse  and  nearly  balanced  mo- 
tives, to  suspend  the  determining  power  of  each  and  all 
these  motives,  until  the  judgment  has  had  time  to  con- 
sider their  relative  importance.  As  we  have  no  room  for 
extracts  on  this  point,  we  can  only  refer  our  readers  to  the 
fifty-second  and  fifty-sixth  sections  of  Locke's  chapter  upon 
"  Power." 

Cousin's  own  reasoning  upon  this  head  affords  a  striking 
instance  of  confusion,  arising  from  the  very  cause  which 
Locke  has  so  clearly  pointed  out.  Proposing  to  discuss  the 
question  about  human  agency,  he  introduces  a  long  argu- 
ment to  show  that  freedom  cannot  be  ascribed  to  the  under- 
standing, or  to  the  outward  act ;  but  only  to  the  will.  That 
it  cannot  be  attributed  to  the  two  former,  he  proves  ;  that  it 
is  rightly  ascribed  to  the  latter,  he  takes  for  granted.  All  this 
is  very  well,  only  it  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  The  real 
question,  which  he  does  not  touch,  relates  to  the  connexion 
between  the  understanding  and  the  will.  It  is  admitted  on 
all  hands,  that  motives  are  considered  and  balanced  by  the 
intellect ;  but  it  is  also  admitted,  that  these  motives  influence, 
not  to  say  determine,  the  will.  The  question,  whether  they 
act  directly  upon  it,  or  only  through  the  medium  of  the  un- 
derstanding, is  one  of  no  importance.  Some  influence  they 
undoubtedly  have,  but  of  what  sort  ?  Is  the  influence  cau- 
sal, necessary,  imperative, —  or  only  persuasive?  Can  it 
be  resisted  or  not  ?     A  moment's  reflection  upon  our  idea 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  151 

of  "  necessary  connexion  "  may  throw  some  light  upon 
this  subject. 

In  the  external  world,  when  one  phenomenon  immediate- 
ly and  invariably  succeeds  another,  we  connect  the  two  by 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  Though  nothing  is  per- 
ceived but  the  fact  of  close  succession,  we  necessarily  at- 
tribute to  the  first  an  efficient  agency  in  producing  the 
second.  The  power  which  fire  has  to  inflame  gunpowder, 
for  instance,  is  not  perceived.  We  see  only  the  two  events, 
that  the  spark  falls,  and  the  explosion  instantly  follows, 
and  we  assume  the  necessary  connexion  between  the  two 
by  virtue  of  an  original  and  instinctive  law  of  belief  A 
causal  union  never  is  perceived,  and  it  is  admitted  to  exist 
only  on  the  ground  of  this  primitive  conviction  of  the  un- 
derstanding. If  we  do  not  give  full  credit  to  this  intuitive 
principle,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  necessary  event  in  the 
world  either  of  matter  or  of  mind.  Now  if  the  question  be 
asked,  whether  human  agency  is  free,  we  reply,  that  its 
freedom  is  attested  by  the  same  species  of  evidence,  by 
another  law  of  human  belief  equally  cogent  with  the  first. 
In  other  words,  there  is  precisely  the  same  authority  for 
"  binding  Nature  fast  in  fate,"  and  for  "  leaving  free  the 
human  will."  It  will  not  do  to  receive  the  same  testimo- 
ny in  one  case,  which  we  have  just  rejected  in  another. 
Either  I  am  free  to  choose  between  two  courses  of  con- 
duct, or  the  word  necessity  has  no  meaning  in  it,  and  must 
be  rejected  altogether. 

One  lecture  of  Cousin,  according  to  the  abstract  which 
is  placed  at  its  head  in  the  manner  of  a  table  of  contents, 
contains  an  "  examination  of  three  important  theories  found 
in  the  '  Essay  on  Human  Understanding ' ;  I.  theory  of 
freedom,  which  inclines  to  Fatalism  ;  II.  theory  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  soul,  which  inclines  to  Materialism  ;  III.  theory 
of  the  existence  of  God,  which  rests  itself  almost  exclusive- 


152  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

ly  upon  external  proofs,  drawn  from  the  sensible  world." 
We  have  already  considered  the  first  of  these  subjects,  and 
now  pass  on  to  the  second.  The  charge  of  materialism 
would  be  preferred  with  a  better  grace  against  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  "  Essay,"  if  the  argument  in  favor  of  the  im- 
materiality of  the  thinking  principle,  with  which  the  ac- 
cusation is  introduced,  were  not  entirely  borrowed  from 
Locke  himself.  Borrowed  we  say,  for  though  it  is  not 
credible,  that  Cousin  took  the  reasoning  directly  from  the 
"  Essay,"  where  the  sight  of  it  must  immediately  have 
convinced  him  of  the  absurdity  of  his  allegation,  yet  he 
must  have  obtained  it  at  second  hand  from  one  of  Locke's 
previous  copyists  ;  probably  from  Reid  or  Stewart.  Again, 
we  have  no  room  for  extracts,  but  we  entreat  our  readers 
who  may  possess  the  volume,  to  peruse  the  three  hundred 
and  twenty-sixth  and  three  hundred  and  twenty-seventh 
pages  of  the  "  Elements  of  Psychology,"  and  then  to  read 
over  again  the  extracts  from  Stewart  and  Locke  in  the  pre- 
ceding part  of  this  article  in  connexion  with  the  idea  of 
substance.  When  they  have  satisfied  themselves,  as  we 
are  sure  they  will  do,  that  the  reasoning  of  the  two  writers 
is  precisely  the  same,  they  will  be  prepared  to  appreciate 
the  fairness  of  the  critic's  accusation.  No  one  can  blame 
Cousin  for  borrowing  an  able  argument  to  prove  the  imma- 
teriality of  the  soul ;  but  when,  in  mercantile  phrase,  he 
had  "  accomplished  the  loan,"  for  him  to  turn  round  and 
accuse  his  benefactor  of  being  himself  a  materialist,  is 
rather  too  bad.  The  direct  occasion  of  making  the  charge 
may  as  well  be  mentioned,  for  it  affords  a  curious  illustra- 
tion of  the  comparative  humility  of  the  two  philosophers. 
With  the  inherent  modesty  of  his  disposition,  Locke  would 
not  assert,  that  his  argument  amounted  to  a  demonstration  ; 
he  declared,  that  it  was  satisfactory  to  him,  and  that  the 
point  was  "  proved  to  the  highest  degree  of  probability," 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN.  153 

but  he  admitted,  that  we  could  not  set  limits  to  Divine 
power  on  this  subject,  or  show  that  it  was  impossible  for 
Omnipotence  to  superadd  the  faculty  of  thinking  to  systems 
of  matter,  when  fitly  disposed.  Cousin  puts  forth  the  same 
reasoning  as  his  own,  declares  that  it  is  equivalent  to  a  de- 
monstration, and  that  Locke's  humble  and  cautious  estimate 
of  his  means  of  defence  amounts  to  a  virtual  desertion  to 
the  enemy.  If  there  be  any  of  our  readers,  who,  perplexed 
by  the  careless  and  inconsistent  language  too  often  em- 
ployed by  Locke,  still  think  there  is  some  basis  for  this 
charge  of  materialism,  let  them  turn  to  the  celebrated  chap- 
ter on  the  existence  of  a  God  ;  let  them  consider  the  nature 
of  the  proof  employed  ;  let  them  examine  particularly  the 
long  and  elaborate  argument  against  the  supposition  of  a 
material  deity ;  and  then,  perhaps,  they  will  believe  with 
us,  —  not  that  our  French  critic  knowingly  fabricated  a  base 
calumny  against  the  author  he  pretended  to  review,  for  we 
believe  him  to  be  an  honest  man,  though  a  weak  and  vain 
one,  —  but  that  he  never  read  this  portion  of  the  "  Essay," 
except  perhaps  a  few  headings  of  the  sections,  or  he  must 
have  seen,  that  his  accusation  was  utterly  groundless  and 
absurd. 

The  third  charge  above  mentioned,  which  concerns  the 
nature  of  the  argument  for  proving  the  being  of  a  God, 
opens  to  us  a  wide  field  of  discussion,  which  we  must  pass 
over  in  a  hurried  and  imperfect  manner.  The  inquiry  will 
be  more  surely  conducted,  if,  before  we  attempt  to  weigh 
the  different  proofs  against  each  other,  we  determine  defi- 
nitely in  our  own  minds,  how  much  we  are  to  expect  from 
any  or  all  of  them.  We  hold,  that  demonstrative  argu- 
ments are  confined  to  the  sphere  of  abstract  ideas,  and  are 
never  properly  applied  to  real  existences.  The  geometer 
and  algebraist  are  busied  about  pure  abstractions,  and  the 
results  which  they  obtain,  must  be  qualified  in  a  material 


154  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

degree,  before  they  are  applicable  to  practice,  or  can  be 
verified  by  experiment.  The  Deity  is  not  a  mere  idea ; 
His  existence  is  a  fact,  the  most  momentous  of  all  facts. 
Such,  at  least,  we  conceive,  is  the  Christian  conception  of  a 
God,  —  a  real  and  personal  Being,  properly  distinguished 
from  His  works,  though  everywhere  present  in  those 
works.  As  such,  the  reality  of  His  being  must  be  made 
evident  to  our  finite  capacities  through  moral  proofs.  We 
do  not  say,  that  the  argument  does  not  amount  to  a  demon- 
stration, for  this  would  imply  that  the  reasoning  we  are 
obliged  to  use  is  less  cogent  and  conclusive  than  that  of  the 
mathematician,  a  point  which  we  by  no  means  admit ;  but 
we  do  say,  that  it  is  not  a  demonstration.  Moral  proof 
raised  to  the  highest  point  does  not  differ  in  degree,  but  in 
kind,  from  demonstrative  evidence.  On  a  thousand  inde- 
pendent subjects,  the  convictions  of  the  geometer  are  quite 
as  firmly  fixed,  as  on  those  which  he  has  just  established 
by  means  of  diagrams  and  figures,  "  that  never  lie."  At 
any  rate,  enough  is  done  to  secure  the  full  measure  of  hu- 
man responsibility  on  this  awful  subject,  to  make  man  just- 
ly accountable  for  denying  his  God,  when  it  is  shown,  that 
among  all  the  expectations  and  probabilities,  by  which  the 
actions  of  this  life,  from  the  most  insignificant  to  the  most 
important,  are  governed,  there  is  not  one  more  firmly  sup- 
ported, than  that  which  points  to  the  separate  existence  of 
an  all-wise  and  all-benevolent  Creator  and  Governor  of  the 
universe. 

We  are  perfectly  aware,  that  this  view  of  the  matter 
does  not  supply  an  argumentum  ad  hominem  to  M.  Cousin. 
He  talks  with  perfect  consistency  about  demonstrating  the 
existence  of  a  God,  for  he  not  only  reasons  from  pure  ab- 
stractions, but  he  identifies  the  object  of  his  inquiry  with  an 
abstract  idea.  According  to  his  theory,  the  three  elements 
of  pure   Reason,  the   idea  of  the  Finite,  the  Infinite,  and 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  155 

their  relation,  do  not  afford  a  passage  to  the  Divine  exist- 
ence, "  for  these  ideas  are  God  himself."  These  three  ele- 
ments, "  a  triplicity  which  resolves  itself  into  unity,  and  an 
unity  which  developes  itself  into  triplicity,"  constitute  the 
Divine  Intelligence  itself, — the  triajuncta  in  uno,  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Godhead.  "  Up  to  this  height.  Gentlemen,"  he 
exclaims  in  the  most  impressive  style  of  French  eloquence, 
"  Up  to  this  height.  Gentlemen,  does  our  intelligence  upon 
the  wings  of  ideas, —  to  speak  with  Plato, —  elevate  itself. 
Here  is  that  thrice  holy  God,  whom  the  family  of  man  re- 
cognises and  adores,  and  before  whom  the  octogenary  au- 
thor of  the  '  Systeme  du  Monde  '  bowed  and  uncovered  his 
head,  whenever  he  was  named.  But  we  are  now  above  the 
world,  above  humanity,  above  human  reason.  [True.] 
We  are  no  longer  in  nature,  and  in  humanity  ;  we  are  only 
in  the  world  of  ideas."  *  Those  who  are  satisfied  with  this 
conception  of  the  Deity  can  accept  also  Cousin's  demon- 
strative proof  of  His  existence.  But  for  ourselves,  we  want 
words  to  express  our  indignation  against  this  impious  Harle- 
quinade of  words,  —  this  mode  of  binding  together  three 
dry  sticks  of  abstract  ideas,  and  then  baptizing  the  miser- 
able fagot  as  God. 

In  estimating  the  validity  of  the  objections  to  the  argu- 
ment a  posteriori,  it  is  important  to  remember,  that  they 
have  neither  force  nor  application,  except  against  the  un- 
wise assertion,  that  this  argument  is  demonstrative  in  its 
character.  They  leave  absolutely  untouched  the  over- 
whelming probability,  —  we  use  the  word  in  its  technical 
and  logical  meaning,  —  the  moral  certainty,  which  results 
from  this  chain  of  reasoning,  when  considered  only  as  a 
moral  proof.  Take  an  instance  from  one  branch  of  the 
main  argument,  the  reasoning  from  final  causes.     It  is  idle 


*  Introduction  to  the  History  of  Philosophy,  pp.  131, 132,  158. 


156  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

for  the  skeptic  and  the  Transcendentalist  to  assert,  that 
adaptation  does  not  prove  design,  when  they  must  admit 
in  the  same  breath,  that  it  creates  so  strong  a  presumption 
of  design,  that  a  man  would  be  a  fit  tenant  of  Bedlam,  — 
caput  insanabile  trihus  Anticyris,  —  who  would  not  act 
upon  the  proposition  with  quite  as  firm  assurance,  as  if  he 
were  enunciating  any  theorem  in  Euclid.  Yet  Paley's  ad- 
mirable work  has  been  impeached,  because  he  did  not  waste 
his  own  time  and  his  readers'  patience  in  an  attempt  to  sub- 
stantiate this  simple  proposition,  —  because  he  coolly  took 
it  for  granted.  We  do  not  rest  the  whole,  or  even  the 
chief,  stress  of  the  argument  for  the  Divine  existence  upon 
this  single  point.  We  hold,  that  the  argument  is  naturally 
cumulative,  for  the  very  reason,  that  it  is  not  a  demonstra- 
tive, but  a  moral,  proof.  We  admit  all  branches  of  it, 
therefore,  the  a  priori  no  less  than  the  a  posteriori  element, 
each  holding  its  proper  place  and  adding  its  due  share  to 
conviction.  We  only  protest,  —  and  here  lies  the  point  of 
the  matter  for  Cousin  and  his  adherents,  —  against  the  vir- 
tual rejection  of  the  argument  from  the  effect  to  the  cause, 
because  it  is  said,  forsooth,  to  be  the  fungous  growth  of  a 
diseased  tree,  —  the  offspring  of  that  mighty  bugbear,  the 
Sensual  philosophy. 

The  charge  against  Locke,  —  and  it  is  treated  as  a  grave 
one,  is,  that  he  grounds  his  reasoning  "  almost  exclusively 
upon  external  proofs  drawn  from  the  sensible  world." 
Though  we  have  hitherto  reasoned  as  if  the  charge  was 
well  founded,  it  turns  out,  as  might  be  expected  after 
the  tissue  of  misrepresentations  which  we  have  exposed, 
that  the  matter  of  the  indictment  is  not  more  than  half  true. 
Man's  own  existence  is  the  only  datum,  the  only  sensible 
fact,  that  is  appealed  to  in  the  argument ;  from  this  point 
the  reasoning  is  direct,  by  a  short  series  of  intuitive  proposi- 
tions, up  to  the  being  of  a  God.    Even  this  existence  is  sub- 


THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  157 

sequently  explained  (see  Sec.  18th)  to  be  a  spiritual  exis- 
tence, the  point  of  the  argument  turning  upon  man  not  as  a 
material,  but  a  thinking,  creature.  Locke's  selection  of  an 
argument  does  not  appear  to  us  a  very  happy  one,  and  we 
have  already  given  our  reasons  for  not  considering  it  as  de- 
monstrative, though  we  thereby  contradict  his  favorite  doc- 
trine. But  it  would  be  quite  as  well  to  represent  his  rea- 
soning correctly,  before  making  it  the  subject  of  criticism. 

Locke's  real  offence  consists  in  rejecting  the  Cartesian 
method  of  treating  the  argument.  To  rest  the  whole  weight 
of  the  proof  on  the  idea  of  God  as  it  exists  in  the  human 
mind,  is  the  course  which  Locke  censures  as  partial  and 
unwise.  He  admits,  that  there  is  some  force  in  this  consid- 
eration, that  it  may  have  some  influence  on  minds  of  a  pe- 
culiar cast ;  but  he  blames  the  proceeding  of  those,  who, 
"  out  of  an  over-fondness  for  that  darling  invention,  cashier, 
or  at  least  endeavor  to  invalidate  all  other  arguments,  and 
forbid  us  to  hearken  to  those  proofs,  as  being  weak  or  falla- 
cious, which  our  own  existence  and  the  sensible  parts  of  the 
universe  offer  so  clearly  and  so  cogently  to  our  thoughts, 
that  I  deem  it  impossible  for  a  considering  man  to  with- 
stand them."  A  more  wise  and  catholic  doctrine,  than  this 
it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  ;  it  stands  opposed  to  that 
narrovv^  bigotry,  which  Cousin  has  contributed  of  late  to  re- 
vive among  us,  which,  in  the  foolish  dread  of  a  Sensualist 
tendency,  would  reject  all  appeals  to  that  glorious  book  of 
external  nature,  that  lies  constantly  open  before  us,  written 
all  over,  within  and  without,  with  the  name  of  the  Father 
of  all. 

The  original  argument  of  Descartes  has  been  reproduced 
in  later  times  under  various  forms,  the  most  noted  of  v/hich 
are  those  of  Cousin  and  Benjamin  Constant.  Admitting,  as 
we  do  without  reserve,  that  this  argument  has  its  weight 
and  should  be  allowed  full  companionship  with  the  others, 
14 


158  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN. 

we  may  still  refuse  to  discard  all  the  rest  for  its  sake,  or 
even  to  allow  it  the  chief  place  among  them.  Considered 
alone,  it  lies  open  to  the  serious  objection,  that  it  affords  no 
direct  answer  to  the  reasoning  of  the  skeptic.  Establish  as 
strongly  as  may  be  the  fact,  that  the  human  mind  is  never 
without  the  idea  of  a  superior  and  more  perfect  directing 
Intelligence,  —  prove  both  from  history  and  philosophy, 
that  man  is  naturally  and  of  necessity  a  religious  being,  — 
the  scoffer  and  the  doubter  will  both  demand  to  be  shown, 
that  this  idea  corresponds  to  a  real  existence,  that  this  faith 
rests  upon  a  solid  foundation,  that  man  is  not  that  unhappy 
being  compelled  to  accept  what  he  cannot  defend,  and  to 
believe  where  he  can  produce  no  evidence.  They  will  say, 
that  it  is  doing  little  honor  to  our  faith  to  reduce  it  to  the 
rank  of  a  necessary  prejudice.  We  mistake  the  scope  and 
purpose  of  skepticism,  when  we  assume,  that  its  sole  object 
is  to  refute  certain  articles  of  faith.  The  intention  of  the 
Pyrrhonist  is  to  discredit  the  whole  intellectual  faculty,  to 
sap  the  very  foundations  of  belief,  by  establishing  ceaseless 
warfare  between  instinctive  faith,  and  calm  investigating 
reason.  No  one  is  more  forward  than  Hume  to  admit,  that 
we  7nust  believe  in  the  principle  of  causality,  in  our  own 
existence,  in  the  reality  of  an  external  world.  But  it  was 
the  aim  of  his  sophistry  to  show,  that  these  primitive  beliefs 
were  at  variance  with  known  facts  and  sound  logic,  were 
contradictory  and  self-destructive,  and  that  we  were  com- 
pelled to  entertain  them,  even  when  their  veracity  had  been 
successfully  impeached  to  ourselves.  Behind  all  these  ad- 
missions, the  presence  of  which  in  his  Writings  has  perplex- 
ed many  of  his  assailants,  we  perceive  the  mocking  glee  of 
the  acute  logician,  who  triumphs  by  the  use  of  his  adversa- 
ry's own  weapon.  Hence  the  contemptuous  satisfaction 
with  which  he  received  the  attacks  of  his  unskilful  oppo- 
nents, Beattie  and  others,  and  sometimes  of  a  more  redoubt- 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    COUSIN.  159 

able  champion,  Reid  himself,  who,  by  their  appeals  to  com- 
mon sense  and  universal  belief,  often  played  into  his  hands 
and  strengthened  his  argument.  Before  skepticism  of  this 
sort,  it  is  evident,  that  the  reasoning  of  the  French  philoso- 
phers is  powerless,  for  it  does  not  touch  the  point. 

Our  examination  of  the  peculiarities  of  Cousin's  specula- 
tions has  been  necessarily  brief,  but  it  may  convey  some' 
idea  of  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  his  philosophy,  and  of 
the  points  of  contrast  which  it  presents  with  systems  previ- 
ously established.  We  have  criticised  his  writings  with 
perfect  freedom,  though  with  no  hostile  feeling  or  precon- 
ceived prejudice,  but  from  a  sincere  desire  to  do  that  justice 
to  him,  which  he  has  certainly  failed  to  render  to  one  of  the 
greatest  names  in  the  list  of  English  philosophers.  Noth- 
ing has  been  said  of  the  strong  national  feeling,  which  has 
evidently  blunted  his  perception  of  the  defects  of  the  Car- 
tesian philosophy,  caused  him  to  treat  with  the  utmost  ten- 
derness even  his  avowed  opponents  of  Condillac's  school, 
and  betrayed  him  into  an  illiberal  and  unjust  attack  upon 
the  principles  of  Locke.  Had  his  gross  misconceptions 
and  unfounded  criticism  of  these  principles  been  confined 
to  his  own  country,  they  might  well  be  passed  over  here 
without  exposure.  But  there  are  those  among  us,  who,  in- 
capable of  judging  or  too  indolent  to  examine  for  them- 
selves, have  taken  up  these  charges  at  second  hand,  and 
repeated  them  so  often  and  confidently,  that  a  name  once 
almost  venerated  wherever  the  English  language  was 
known,  has  become  associated  in  the  minds  of  many  with 
all  that  is  degrading,  skeptical,  and  unsound  in  philosophi- 
cal opinion.  It  would  be  asking  quite  too  much  from  such 
persons,  to  entreat  them  to  weigh  and  ponder  with  caution 
the  shallow  and  fantastic  speculations,  which  it  is  intended 
to  substitute  for  the  ostracized  philosophy ;  but  in  the  name 
of  all  truth  and  fairness,  let  them  cease  to  echo  borrowed 


160  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  COUSIN. 

charges,  until  they  have,  —  we  do  not  say,  examined, — 
but  read  the  writings  against  which  they  are  directed.  We 
are  far,  very  far,  from  being  indiscriminate  admirers  of 
Locke.  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  the  progress  of 
speculative  inquiry  since  his  time  had  not  opened  many 
new  fields  of  research,  and  corrected  many  errors,  into 
which  he  had  fallen.  But  the  catholic  spirit  in  which  his 
great  work  is  written,  the  entire  absence  of  pretension  in 
enunciating  his  opinions,  the  wisdom  of  his  practical  views, 
the  sagacity  and  good  sense  with  which  the  inquiry  is  con- 
ducted, and,  —  we  do  not  scruple  to  say  it,  —  the  general 
soundness  of  his  doctrines,  are  qualities  that  must  insure  to 
him  study  and  respect,  as  long  as  the  language  shall  endure. 
To  his  example,  more  than  to  any  other  single  cause,  the 
healthy  and  judicious  tone  of  English  speculations  in  phi- 
losophy for  more  than  a  century  is  properly  to  be  attributed. 
He  is  the  proper  father  of  Reid  and  Stewart  with  their 
school,  who,  we  must  say,  have  rendered  him  but  scanty 
justice,  and  the  proper  opposite  of  Cousin,  who  has  treated 
him  with  no  justice  at  all.  There  are  many  points  in  his 
"  Essay,"  which  now  require  to  be  limited  and  explained. 
There  are  some  doctrines,  which  we  would  fain  cut  away 
altogether.  But  there  remains  after  all,  as  we  verily  be- 
lieve, a  greater  body  of  truths  first  clearly  set  forth  by 
him  and  still  unimpeached,  than  in  any  other  single  work 
on  a  corresponding  subject,  that  has  appeared  since  the  re- 
vival of  letters. 


PALEY  :  THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  A  GOD.  161 


V. 


PALEY: 
THE  ARGUMENT, FOR  THE   BEING  OF  A    GOD.* 

This  is  a  pleasant  sight  for  those  who  continue  to  respect 
the  name  and  writings  of  Paley.  His  work  on  Natural 
Theology,  which,  in  itself,  fills  but  one  volume  of  moderate 
size,  is  here  swelled  into  five  goodly  tomes,  by  the  aid  of 
notes  and  introductory  and  supplementary  matter.  And 
the  men  who  are  content  to  fill  this  humble  part,  to  glean 
in  the  footsteps  of  Paley,  are  two  of  England's  most  distin- 
guished sons  ;  —  an  eminent  surgeon,  and  a  statesman  not 
more  remarkable  for  great  legal  and  political  ability,  than 
for  various  learning  and  an  apt  and  versatile  genius.  Such 
are  the  persons,  who  are  willing  to  act  as  commentators,  to 
be  mere  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  in  their  lit- 
erary capacity,  to  one  who  occupied,  during  his  whole  life, 
a  rather  humble  position  in  the  English  church,  all  hope  of 
advancement  being  cut  off  by  no  lightly  founded  suspicions 

*  From  the  JVorth  American  Review  for  January,  1842. 

^  Discourse  on  Natural  Theology,  showing  the  Nature  of  the  Evi- 
dence and  the  Advantages  of  the  Study.  By  Henry  Lord  Brougham, 
F.  R.  S.     London.    1835. 

Paley' s  Natural  Theology,  with  Illustrative  Notes.  By  Henry  Lord 
Brougham,  F.  R.  S.  and  Sir  Charles  Bell,  K.  G.  H.,  &c.  To 
which  are  added  Supplementary  Dissertations.  By  Sir  Charles 
Bell.     London.    1836 

Dissertations  on  Subjects  of  Science  connected  with  Natural  Theolo- 
gy ;  being  the  concluding  Volumes  of  the  JVew  Edition  of  Paley  s 
Work,     ^y  Henry  Lord  Brougham,  F.  R.  S.     London.   1839. 

14* 


162 


paley:  the  argument 


of  heterodoxy.  But  such  a  testimonial  was  fairly  due  to 
the  character  and  influence  of  the  works  of  Paley.  We  do 
not  derogate  from  the  reputation  of  Sir  Charles  Bell  and 
Lord  Brougham,  nor  undervalue  the  importance  of  their 
present  undertaking,  when  we  assert,  that  the  fruit  of  all 
their  labors  is  but  dust  in  the  balance,  when  compared  with 
the  original  work  ;  and  to  their  connexion  with  it  they  are 
indebted  for  a  great  part  of  the  interest  and  favor,  where- 
with their  publication  has  been  received. 

There  are  those,  who,  filled  with  the  spirit  of  an  age 
fond  of  exaggerating  the  merits  and  successes  of  its  own 
sons,  while  it  regards  the  lights  of  a  former  generation  with 
a  supercilious  and  hypercritical  air,  can  see  nothing  but  the 
marked  defects  of  Paley's  mind  and  writings,  and  are 
wholly  unable  to  account  for  his  extraordinary  influence 
and  popularity.  That  many  acute  and  philosophical  treati- 
ses on  the  same  subject,  replete  with  the  learning  and  sci- 
ence of  the  present  day,  are  already  becoming  the  property 
of  spiders  and  trunk-makers,  while  a  writer  who  had  no 
genius  for  metaphysics,  and  who  committed  blunders  in 
speculation  which  tyros  can  laugh  at  now-a-days,  is  univer- 
sally read  and  admired,  is  for  such  critics  a  puzzling  and 
mortifying  fact.  There  is  no  physic  that  can  purge  away 
self-conceit,  and  no  logic  that  can  disarm  or  silence  preju- 
dice. We  might  else  hope,  that  a  fair  consideration  of  the 
strong  and  weak  points  of  this  author,  would  clear  up  some 
difficulties  in  this  problem,  and  assist  such  individuals  in 
reconciling  their  theory  with  the  facts  in  the  case.  But 
though  it  may  not  shake  preconceived  opinions,  or  put  an 
end  to  cavilling,  it  may  serve  to  place  in  a  clearer  light  the 
questions  in  dispute,  and  supply  some  hints  for  a  general 
solution  of  them.  An  attempt  to  define  with  accuracy  the 
characteristics  of  a  writer,  and  the  nature  and  scope  of  the 


FOR    THE    BEING    OP    A    GOD.  163 

argument  which  he  employed,  may  remove  some  prevailing 
misapprehensions  respecting  both. 

The  three  principal  works  of  Paley,  his  "  Moral  Philoso- 
phy," "  Evidences  of  Christianity,"  and  "  Natural  Theolo- 
gy," appear  to  be  animated  with  nearly  the  same  purpose, 
and  executed  on  a  very  similar  plan.  The  aim  is  entirely 
a  practical  one,  the  writer  desiring  to  produce  a  particular 
effect  upon  his  readers,  and  keeping  this  end  in  view 
throughout  with  a  remarkable  unity,  both  of  design  and 
performance.  And  a  great  part  of  the  effect  which  his 
works  produce,  is  probably  due  to  the  clear  manifestation  of 
this  simplicity  of  purpose.  The  reader  perceives  at  once, 
that  the  author  is  honest ;  is  not  playing  with  him ;  is  not 
thinking  of  his  own  appearance  or  reputation  ;  is  not  desi- 
rous of  displaying  his  stores  of  learning  and  science,  or  of 
exciting  admiration  by  his  eloquence,  the  subtilties  of  his 
reasoning,  or  the  originality  of  his  views.  He  goes  straight 
forward  to  his  object,  to  convince  his  readers  of  some  great 
truth,  or  to  persuade  them  to  a  certain  course  of  conduct. 
There  is  none  of  the  sensitiveness  of  an  author  about  him ; 
—  none  of  that  petty  feeling,  which  is  nervously  alive  to  a 
charge  of  plagiarism,  but  seeks  every  opportunity  to  pilfer 
without  being  detected ;  which  will  set  forward  a  poor  or 
weak  argument  in  preference  to  a  better  one,  because  the 
former  is  all  his  own,  while  some  one  has  used  the  latter 
before  him.  All  was  manliness  and  fair-dealing  on  the 
part  of  Paley.  His  inquiry  respecting  an  argument  or  a 
remark  was  not,  whether  it  was  new,  or  bore  the  appear- 
ance of  ingenuity,  or  opened  a  field  for  eloquent  amplifica- 
tion ;  —  but  whether  it  was  effective  ;  whether  it  advanced 
his  main,  his  single  purpose.  He  took  his  materials  wher- 
ever he  could  find  them,  no  source  being  too  suspicious,  or 
too  low,  or  too  common,  provided  that  it  afforded  matter, 
which  furthered   his  ends.      Consequently,   there   are  few 


I 


164 


PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 


works  which  appear,  at  first  sight,  to  contain  so  little  that  is 
new,  while  there  are  none  wherein  the  subject  is  treated 
with  such  real  originality.  It  is  an  old  remark,  that  his 
"  Evidences  of  Christianity  "  are  a  mere  compilation  from 
Lardner,  and  that  his  "  Natural  Theology "  is  founded 
upon  the  works  of  Ray  and  Derham.  In  one  sense  this  is 
true,  for  he  made  very  liberal  use  of  these  writers.  In 
another,  it  is  false,  for  the  great  merits  of  his  works  can  be 
traced  to  no  predecessor,  and  he  imitated  no  one.  The 
borrower,  the  imitator,  is  detected  and  disgraced,  for  he 
can  never  surpass  one  whom  he  follows,  and  the  original 
must  at  last  assert  its  own  superior  worth.  But  Paley  has 
wholly  supplanted  the  very  authors  to  whom  he  is  most  in- 
debted. His  books  have  pushed  Lardner,  and  Ray,  and 
Derham  off  the  shelves,  or  consigned  them  to  those  persons, 
who  hope  to  glean  a  little  more  in  the  field  which  he  work- 
ed to  such  marvellous  advantage. 

It  may  seem  strange  to  put  forward  honesty  as  one  of  the 
great  merits  of  Paley,  and  the  main  source  of  his  populari- 
ty and  influence.  But  the  truth  is,  that  this  quality  is  far 
more  rare  among  the  writers  on  such  subjects,  than  is  com- 
monly imagined.  Men  have  published  works  on  natural 
theology,  not  to  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  but  to  show 
their  own  metaphysical  acumen ;  nay,  sometimes  they  have 
written  them  only  to  disprove  the  common  notions  on  the 
subject,  and  to  manufacture  a  deity  suited  to  their  own  pur- 
poses, and  consonant  with  their  philosophical  system.  They 
have  filled  huge  tomes  with  the  evidences  of  Christianity, 
which  should  have  been  lettered  on  the  backs,  "  Proofs  of 
the  Author's  Erudition."  This  same  quality  of  perfect 
honesty,  this  forgetfulness  of  self,  and  entire  devotion  to 
the  avowed  object,  whether  it  be  the  pursuit  of  truth,  or  the 
inculcation  of  virtue,  can  be  attributed  to  but  very  few  of 
the   great  writers  and   thinkers  of  any  age.     It  manifests 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  165 

itself  in  simplicity  and  raciness  of  style,  and  earnestness  of 
manner,  which  produce  their  effect  not  merely  on  a  few  in- 
dividuals or  on  a  particular  class,  but  work  equally  upon 
the  minds  of  all  persons,  and  exert  an  influence,  that,  in 
breadth  and  depth,  appears  wholly  disproportionate  to  the 
means  employed.  An  indefinable  charm  runs  through 
books  composed  in  this  spirit,  which  enlists  a  vast  majority 
of  minds  in  their  favor,  in  spite  of  the  faults,  numerous  and 
glaring  though  they  be,  which  keen-eyed  criticism  detects, 
and  malevolent  or  envious  feelings  expose.  And  the  at- 
traction continues,  moreover,  for  an  indefinite  period ;  for, 
not  being  dependent  merely  upon  novelty,  it  does  not  dis- 
appear with  the  first  gloss. 

Paley's  object,  we  have  said,  was  a  practical  one.  He 
was  far  less  an  inquirer  afier  truth,  than  a  teacher  of  virtue. 
His  works  were  not  written  for  the  discovery  and  difilision 
of  new  truths,  but  for  the  establishment  and  inculcation  of 
old  ones.  He  wrote,  not  to  satisfy  or  amuse  the  learned 
and  critical  few,  but  to  guide  and  instruct  the  many  ;  and 
the  eflTect,  which  he  aimed  to  produce,  must  be  estimated 
quite  as  much  by  the  quantity,  as  the  quality.  In  this  dis- 
tinction, we  apprehend,  may  be  found  a  key  to  his  most 
marked  excellences  and  defects.  Hence,  that  unrivalled 
clearness  of  statement,  that  terseness  of  language,  that 
abundance  of  forcible  but  homely  illustration,  that  close  and 
orderly  array  of  argument,  and  those  brief,  but  nervous 
touches  of  eloquence,  with  which  the  whole  composition  is 
seasoned.  To  the  same  cause  may  be  traced  his  principal 
faults  ;  —  his  abandonment  of  the  more  abstruse  parts  of 
the  subject,  his  deficiency  in  subtile  reasoning,  his  dislike  of 
metaphysical  abstractions,  his  want  of  ideality  and  enthu- 
siasm, as  shown  by  the  adoption  of  a  somewhat  plain  and 
coarse  standard  of  virtue,  and  in  opposing  the  allurements 
of  vice  by  purely  selfish  considerations.     It  may  be  said, 


166  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

that,  with  such  characteristics,  his  works  are  fitted  only  for 
popular  use,  and  are  unworthy  of  consideration  in  compa- 
ny with  the  learned  and  scientific  treatises,  to  which  the 
world  is  indebted  for  the  real  advancement  of  truth.  This 
remark  would  apply,  undoubtedly,  to  writings  conceived  on 
the  same  plan,  but  executed  with  inferior  ability.  But  the 
excellence  of  his  productions  has  raised  them  out  of  the 
sphere  for  which  they  seem  to  be  designed,  and  has  subject- 
ed them  to  a  species  of  criticism,  which  should  be  reserved 
for  works  of  an  entirely  different  character.  We  speak  of 
the  sphere  for  which  they  seem  to  be  designed,  for,  not- 
withstanding their  grave  defects,  they  exert  great  influence 
upon  all  classes  of  readers,  and  Paley  hims'elf  certainly 
aimed  at  something  higher  than  writing  a  book  merely  for 
the  uninstructed  multitude.  The  attractions  of  his  style,  and 
the  sort  of  argument  that  he  employed,  are  so  powerful 
toward  conviction,  that  the  mind  of  any  reader  is  carried 
away  by  them  perforce,  in  spiie  of  the  gaps  and  errors, 
which  may  be  discovered  on  a  critical  examination,  but 
which,  after  all,  are  only  of  secondary  importance.  The 
influence  of  his  manner  in  this  respect  may  be  compared 
to  that  of  a  clear  statement  of  facts  by  a  plain  speaker, 
which  often  destroys  the  effect  of  the  highest  flights  of  elo- 
quence. 

It  has  been  frequently  said,  that  his  mind  had  little  power 
of  generalizing,  and  was  wholly  unfitted  for  metaphysical 
speculations.  To  this  remark  in  its  whole  compass  we  do 
not  assent,  for  there  are  not  a  few  passages  in  his  works, 
which  betray  no  mean  power  of  refined  and  accurate  reason- 
ing, of  subtile  analysis,  and,  at  times,  of  forming  the  most 
comprehensive  views.  But  these  qualities  are  not  predom- 
inant, and  that  for  the  most  obvious  reason,  —  they  were 
not  called  into  play  by  the  execution  of  his  design.  Their 
frequent  exercise  would  have   marred  his  chief  purpose,  to 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  167 

produce  a  wide  effect  by  adapting  his  work  to  the  taste  and 
comprehension  of  all.  Still  further ;  in  reference  to  the 
book,  in  which  the  absence  of  these  qualities  has  been  most 
complained  of,  his  "  Natural  Theology,"  we  must  be  per- 
mitted to  maintain,  without  any  disrespect  for  metaphysics, 
that  Paley's  course  was  not  only  the  best  adapted  to  his  pur- 
pose, but  that  it  is  the  only  true  and  proper  method  ;  that, 
in  the  main  body  of  the  argument,  the  refinements  and  ab- 
stractions of  the  metaphysician  are  wholly  out  of  place,  are 
easily  opposed  by  weapons  of  the  same  character  and  equal 
force,  and  can  never  lead  to  any  satisfactory  result.  We 
say,  in  the  main  body  of  the  argument,  for  there  are  branch- 
es of  the  subject,  that  must  be  treated  after  the  manner  of 
Clarke,  or  not  at  all.  Far  the  greater  part  of  Paley's 
book  is  occupied  with  proving  the  existence  and  goodness 
of  the  Deity;  and,  for  establishing  these  points,  we  main- 
tain that  his  mode  of  reasoning  is  the  only  correct  and  sat- 
isfactory one,  that  has  ever  been  proposed.  Of  course,  the 
argument  is  his  only  by  adoption ;  for  it  is  substantially  the 
same  with  that  of  Socrates  and  Cicero,  of  Bacon  and 
Locke,  and,  as  we  verily  believe,  it  has  constituted  the  only 
substantial  ground  of  belief  in  the  mind  of  every  well- 
informed  theist,  that  ever  lived.  We  propose  to  defend 
this  position  at  some  length,  but  we  must  now  return  for  a 
moment  to  our  immediate  subject,  the  peculiarhies  of  the 
mind  and  writings  of  Paley. 

The  practical  and  Socratic  turn  of  the  writer's  mind,  and 
his  aversion  to  general  speculations,  appear  most  obviously 
in  his  book  on  Moral  Philosophy,  which,  able  as  it  is,  is  far 
more  exceptionable  in  theory  than  either  of  his  subsequent 
publications.  It  appears  difficult  to  account  for  the  fact,  that 
one  of  such  pure  intentions  and  character  could  contrive  a 
system  of  morals,  that  is  so  unsound  in  doctrine  and  perni- 
cious in  its  results.     We  refer  only  to  the  definition  of  vir- 


168  paley:  the  argument 

tue,  on  which  the  work  is  based,  for  the  subsequent  portions 
of  the  volume,  relating  entirely  to  practical  ethics,  are  near- 
ly faultless  in  design  and  admirably  executed.  The  defini- 
tion consists  of  three  clauses,  in  each  of  which  a  grave 
error  is  involved.  "  Virtue  consists  in  doing  good  to  man- 
kind, in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for  ihe  sake  of 
everlasting  happiness."  It  is  enough  to  say,  that  benevo- 
lence is  not  the  whole  duty  of  man  ;  that  right  is  of  inhe- 
rent and  necessary  obligation,  anterior  to  all  command ; 
and  that  a  selfish  regard  to  our  future  welfare,  far  from 
constituting  the  only  proper  motive,  vitiates  the  whole  act, 
and  is  destructive  of  the  very  essence  of  virtue.  But  the 
error  of  forming  such  a  grossly  erroneous  definition  is  pal- 
liated, when  we  observe,  that  benevolence  is  among  the 
most  important  and  comprehensive  of  all  our  duties,  and 
one  which  most  needs  to  be  stimulated  ;  that  the  divine 
command  supplies  the  most  imposing  and  efficient  of  all 
sanctions  to  the  moral  law  ;  and  that  looking  to  reward 
only  in  a  future  life  is  such  a  refined  and  pure  regard  for 
our  own  happiness,  that  it  hardly  deserves  the  name  of  self- 
ishness. This  account  of  virtue,  therefore,  though  wholly 
erroneous  in  theory,  may  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  most 
useful  one  in  practice.  It  is  precisely  such  a  one  as  a  mor- 
alist would  be  likely  to  frame,  who,  careless  about  merely 
speculative  truth,  and  indifferent  to  the  praise  of  originating 
a  complete  and  elaborate  system  of  ethics,  should  make  it 
his  only  aim  to  be  practically  useful  to  his  fellow-beings, 
by  alluring  them  in  the  most  persuasive  manner  to  the  prac- 
tice of  virtue.  We  do  not  mean,  that  Paley  actually  saw 
the  error  of  his  own  theory,  and  passed  over  it  intentional- 
ly, because  he  believed  a  faulty  definition  would  be  more 
useful  than  a  correct  one.  He  had  far  too  much  reverence 
for  truth,  too  firm .  a  belief,  that  whatever  is  erroneous  or 
false  is  also  least  expedient,  to  stoop  to  such  an  unworthy 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  169 

course.  But  the  whole  cast  of  his  disposition  inclined  to 
practical  benevolence  ;  his  whole  ambition  centred  in  the 
desire  of  doing  good  to  his  fellow-men.  In  his  investiga- 
tion of  any  subject,  he  was  led-  by  an  imperceptible  bias 
to  that  conclusion,  which  promised  most  effectually  to  sub- 
serve the  interests  of  mankind.  Those  who  are  most  loud 
in  their  denunciations  of  his  base  and  selfish  morality, 
would  do  well  to  imitate  his  philanthropy,  while  they  avoid 
his  faulty  and  mistaken  speculations. 

We  have  said,  that  he  was  deficient  in  enthusiasm.  He 
possessed  a  shrewd  and  penetrating  mind,  that  looked  quite 
through  the  motives  and  dispositions  of  his  fellow-men,  and 
formed  such  nutriment  for  them,  as  he  judged  to  be  best 
suited  to  their  present  tastes  and  capacities.  He  framed  no 
ideal  standard  ;  he  set  up  no  lofty  conception  of  virtue,  im- 
posing in  its  purity  and  grandeur,  but  chilling  by  its  remote- 
ness and  difficulty  of  attainment.  Hence,  there  was  some 
danger  lest  he  should  compromise  with  principle,  and  admit 
rules  of  conduct,  which  in  som.e  cases  might  offend  a  nice 
and  delicate  sense  of  rectitude.  But  the  purity  of  his  taste 
in  ethics,  and  his  caution  in  limiting  the  application  of  his 
principles,  preserved  him  from  this  error ;  and  the  sternest 
moralist  will  find  no  cause  for  censure  in  his  practical  expo- 
sitions of  virtue.  He  was  skilful  in  casuistry,  and  often 
framed  nice  distinctions,  but  the  conclusion  was  invariably 
on  the  safe  side.  As  a  compend  of  practical  morality, 
therefore,  his  work  is  invaluable.  He  is  never  vao-ue  in 
enunciating  his  rules,  and  never  declamatory  in  enforcing 
them.  His  argument  is  inimitable  in  force  and  conciseness, 
and  often  rises  without  effort  to  the  height  of  eloquence. 
The  language  never  admits  of  a  doubt  as  to  its  meaning, 
and  the  terseness  of  expression,  together  with  the  homely 
but  apposite  illustrations,  often  produces  the  same  pleasing 
surprise,  as  refined  wit.  Though  many  may  deem  the  com- 
15 


170  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

parison  too  honorable  to  Paley,  we  confess  that  his  naanner 
often  renriinds  us  of  Socrates,  as  represented  in  the  "  Memo- 
rabilia," confuting  the  Sophists,  and  teaching  virtue  about 
the  streets.  His  shrewdness,  good  sense,  and  occasional 
humor,  his  pithy  arguments  and  familiar  style,  his  mode  of 
vanquishing  an  opponent  with  his  own  weapons,  his  use  of 
striking  but  homely  figures,  and  the  pure  and  elevated  phi- 
losophy of  his  discourses,  are  all  in  the  best  manner  of  the 
Grecian  sage. 

Though  he  sometimes  handles  general  principles  with 
ease  and  correctness,  his  mind  was  not  naturally  a  compre- 
hensive one.  He  divided  a  subject  into  minute  parts,  and 
considered  them  in  succession.  In  argument,  he  attached 
himself  to  the  strong  points  of  his  subject,  and  flashed  the 
light  of  a  dark  lantern  upon  them,  while  their  branches  and 
connexions  with  the  surrounding  parts  were  left  in  obscuri- 
ty. His  reasoning  can  seldom  be  confuted,  but  the  op- 
ponent may  sometimes  get  out  of  its  range,  by  taking  up 
the  matter  from  a  side  which  he  had  never  contemplated. 
This  defect,  again,  arose  from  the  wish  to  adapt  his  work 
to  common  minds.  He  chose  that  aspect  of  a  question, 
which  most  readily  offers  itself,  and  presented  it  with  such 
force  and  clearness,  that  the  inquirer  remained  satisfied 
with  the  demonstration,  and  felt  no  desire  to  pursue  the 
subject  further.  Paley  was  cautious  about  overlaying  the 
argument,  or  wearying  the  beholder  with  an  attempt  to 
stop  every  crevice  in  the  walls,  when  the  first  glance 
showed  that  the  fortress  was  impregnable.  His  work  was 
deficient  in  scientific  completeness,  but  it  answered  its  end  ; 
it  convinced  the  reader.  There  is  no  wordiness,  nor  mys- 
ticism, nor  affectation  of  technical  phrases  in  his  writings. 
He  never  seeks  to  get  out  of  a  difficulty  by  raising  a  cloud 
of  words,  nor  to  escape  from  reasoning  by  running  into 
declamation,  nor  to  evade  an  argument  in  any  matter  what- 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  171 

ever.  There  is  a  delightful  simplicity  and  honJiomie  in 
his  clear  and  powerful  way  of  slating  an  objection,  which 
he  then  proceeds  to  demolish  in  the  same  plain  and  forcible 
manner.  Frankness  and  candor  breathe  from  every  page 
of  his  writings,  and  one  relishes  these  qualities  the  more 
under  such  circumstances,  because  they  are  not  usually  to 
be  found  in  controversial  writings  of  the  same  class.  Men 
have  written  in  defence  of  morality  and  religion,  as  if  the 
sacredness  of  the  subject  absolved  them  from  all  obligations 
to  use  courtesy  and  fairness  towards  an  opponent,  and  jus- 
tified all  wiles  and  stratagems  by  which  a  victory  might  be 
obtained.  Paley  stooped  to  no  such  unworthy  practices, 
and  his  fair  dealing  is  rewarded  by  the  docility  of  the 
reader,  who  soon  finds  himself  compelled  to  follow  submis- 
sively the  train  of  argument,  and  seldom  closes  the  book 
without  having  conceived  an  affection  for  the  author.  In- 
deed, the  whole  character  of  the  writer,  in  all  its  strong  and 
honest  features,  is  imprinted  on  the  work  ;  Montaigne  did 
not  convey  a  livelier  image  of  himself  to  his  readers. 
Much  of  the  indefinable  charm,  which  invests  his  writ- 
ings, must  be  attributed  to  this  unconscious  self-portraiture, 
though  much  is  due  also  to  the  admirable  qualities  of  his 
style.  His  chapter  on  "  Reverencing  the  Deity "  has  al- 
ways appeared  to  us  one  of  the  most  masterly  compositions 
in  the  English  language.  It  will  suffer  little  by  comparison 
with  Lord  Bacon's  noble  essay  on  Atheism,  which,  like  the 
chapter  in  Paley,  consists  of  only  three  or  four  pages,  but 
is  lighted  up  by  the  most  brilliant  flashes  of  the  writer's 
glowing  imagination. 

The  great  merit,  which  belongs  to  Paley  for  his  work  on 
"  Natural  Theology,"  may  be  best  seen  by  comparison. 
Look  at  the  state  of  the  science  since  his  death.  An  Eng- 
lish nobleman  bequeaths  a  princely  sum  to  be  given  to 
some  person  for  writing  a  book  on  a  branch  of  the  same 


172  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

subject.  By  the  advice  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  the  lega- 
cy is  divided,  and  given  in  equal  portions  to  six  individuals, 
among  the  most  distinguished  in  their  respective  sciences 
of  any  in  the  country  ;  and  in  a  few  years  the  result  comes 
forth  in  the  shape  of  six  or  eight  thick  octavos,  called  the 
"  Bridgewater  Treatises."  Their  publication  may  be  of 
some  advantage  to  the  other  sciences,  but,  as  a  contribution 
to  Natural  Theology,  they  can  hardly  be  said  to  possess 
any  merit  whatever.  Dr.  Buckland  has  written  a  very 
good  treatise  on  Geology,  and  Dr.  Roget  a  very  admirable 
one  on  Physiology,  but  the  theological  comments  in  each 
might  be  omitted  altogether  without  detriment.  The  reader 
perceives  at  once,  that  the  argument  in  respect  to  the 
Deity  is  a  mere  secondary  affair ;  that  it  is  interpolated  in 
an  ordinary  scientific  treatise,  with  which  it  has  no  proper 
connexion.  The  portion  of  the  general  subject  allotted  to 
Dr.  Chalmers  was  of  such  a  nature,  that  he  seemed  com- 
pelled to  confine  himself  to  the  theme  assigned  by  the 
noble  donor.  Yet  he  has  done  his  best  to  escape  from 
the  trammels,  and  frankly  confesses  some  incongruity  be- 
tween the  title  and  the  subject  matter  of  his  volumes.  He 
embraced  the  opportunity  to  expatiate  upon  the  philosophy 
of  mind  ;  and  the  result  of  his  labors  only  proves,  that  Dr. 
Chalmers  is  a  clumsy  writer,  a  weak  reasoner,  and  a  meta- 
physician equally  deficient  in  learning,  originality,  and  dis- 
cretion. It  is  an  act  of  charity  towards  the  writers  to  pass 
over  some  of  the  other  treatises  altogether.  We  have  men- 
tioned those  only,  which  possess  some  claims  to  attention. 
In  spite  of  the  high  expectations  created  by  the  benevolent 
purpose  of  the  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  and  the  great  efforts 
that  were  made  to  carry  his  wishes  into  effect,  it  seems 
that  the  loss  of  Paley's  small  volume  would  still  be  irrep- 
arable. 

Lord  Brougham   and   Sir  Charles  Bell,  in  the  volumes 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  173 

now  before  us,  have  limited  iheir  ambition  to  preparing  a 
new  edition  of  Paley's  work,  with  copious  notes  and  sup- 
plementary dissertations.  They  considered  rightly,  that 
their  own  lucubrations  stood  a  better  chance  of  being  no- 
ticed and  studied,  if  published  in  such  a  connexion,  than  if 
they  appeared  in  an  independent  form.  The  desire  of  il- 
lustrating the  original,  we  consider  as  a  mere  pretence. 
Paley's  command  of  language  and  illustration  renders  all 
aid  unnecessary,  even  for  the  most  shallow  capacity.  He 
who  runs  may  read  and  understand.  Even  the  anatomical 
portions  of  the  work  do  not  require  the  aid  of  engravings  in 
order  to  be  fully  understood.  A  description  couched  in 
the  simplest  and  most  graphic  terms,  and  a  homely  com- 
parison, —  the  latch  or  hinge  of  a  door,  the  teeth  of  a  saw, 
or  the  packing  of  a  box,  —  make  the  whole  structure  in 
question  as  plain  as  day.  That  Paley  was  not  a  surgeon 
by  profession  only  renders  his  explanations  the  more  intel- 
ligible to  ordinary  minds.  There  was  less  danger  of  sliding 
unawares  into  the  use  of  technical  terms,  or  of  presuming 
too  much  on  the  reader's  stock  of  previous  knowledge. 
Though  Sir  Charles  Bell  writes  with  a  fair  share  of  ease 
and  perspicuity,  it  will  generally  be  found,  when  he  adds  a 
note  for  the  mere  purpose  of  elucidating  the  text,  that  the 
explanation  is  less  clear  than  the  original.  He  supplies  a 
few  other  instances  of  adaptation  from  the  structure  of  the 
human  frame,  but  adds  nothing  to  the  argument,  and  his 
labors,  on  the  whole,  rather  encumber  the  work. 

Lord  Brougham's  "  Preliminary  Discourse  "  has  already 
been  noticed  at  length  in  the  pages  of  the  "  North  American 
Review,"  and  we  have  nothing  to  add  to  that  estimate  of  its 
merits  and  defects.  The  noble  writer  at  least  confines 
himself  to  the  subject,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the 
ability  with  which  it  is  treated.  But  we  cannot  say  as 
much  of  the  "  Dissertations,"  two  thick  volumes  of  which 
15* 


174  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

are  appended  to  this  edition.  They  contain  a  parade  of 
various,  though  not  very  profound  learning,  on  a  number 
of  subjects,  some  of  them  bearing  about  the  same  relation 
to  Natural  Theology  tliat  they  do  to  the  study  of  Sanscrit, 
or  the  science  of  ship-building.  Thus,  about  half  of  the 
second  volume  is  occupied  with  an  analysis  of  Newton's 
"  Principia,"  which  might  with  equal  propriety  have  been 
printed  in  connexion  with  his  Lordship's  translation  of  De- 
mosthenes "  concerning  the  Crown."  It  answers  no  pur- 
pose except  to  display  the  v/rher's  acquaintance  with  mathe- 
matics. An  account  of  Cuvier's  work  on  Fossil  Osteology 
is  not  out  of  place  to  the  same  degree,  though  all  the 
relations  of  the  subject  to  Natural  Theology  might  be 
stated  in  five  pages,  as  well  as  in  a  hundred  and  twenty. 
We  can  hardly  hope  much  from  any  attempt  to  throw  light 
upon  the  deep  and  dark  problem  of  the  origin  of  evil,  and 
Lord  Brougham  is  certainly  the  last  person,  from  whom  aid 
in  such  a  case  could  reasonably  be  expected.  His  long 
dissertation  upon  the  subject  contains  nothing  new,  and  will 
not  increase  the  writer's  reputation  for  learning,  or  skill  in 
handling  metaphysical  questions.  Four  dialogues  upon  In- 
stinct, and  an  account  of  the  structure  of  the  cells  of  bees, 
occupy  a  whole  volume,  but  contribute  very  little  by  way 
either  of  argument  or  illustration,  to  the  reasoning  of  Paley. 
In  fine,  the  supplementary  Dissertations  serve  to  display  a 
versatile  genius  and  much  general  information  ;  but  they 
show  neither  originality  nor  depth  of  thought,  and  are  ut- 
terly valueless  in  the  place  they  now  occupy. 

We  are  disappointed  in  this  edition,  for  we  had  hoped 
that  the  concluding  volumes  would  carry  out  some  of  the 
hints  in  the  Preliminary  Discourse,  and,  by  a  fair  examina- 
tion of  Paley's  argument,  either  supply  its  alleged  deficien- 
cies, or  remove  the  belief  in  their  existence.  The  great 
questions  agitated  in  that  work  have  been  much  compli- 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  175 

cated  of  late  by  skeptical  quibblings  and  metaphysical  diffi- 
culties. The  legitimacy  of  the  whole  reasoning  has  been 
called  in  doubt,  and  the  points  to  be  proved  have  been  va- 
ried and  distorted  by  the  makers  of  philosophical  systems. 
Some  complaints  might  be  done  away,  and  much  obscurity 
be  dispelled,  if  the  nature  of  the  evidence  were  once  fairly 
considered,  and  the  relation  fully  determined  which  this 
subject  bears  to  other  sciences.  This  was  the  scheme  of 
Lord  Brougham's  first  Discourse,  but  the  execution  was  im- 
perfect, and  these  volumes  do  not  complete  the  design.  As 
the  subject  is  of  great  interest  in  both  a  religious  and  a  phi- 
losophical view,  some  desultory  remarks  upon  it  may  be 
acceptable. 

The  great  problem  of  Natural  Theology  is  to  prove  the 
existence  of  a  God,  all  the  other  questions  being  subsid- 
iary to  this,  and  in  great  measure  dependent  upon  its  so- 
lution. Two  modes  or  classes  of  proof  are  presented, 
called  the  argument  a  priori  and  a  posteriori.  These 
appellations  are  unhappily  chosen,  for  in  such  a  case,  rea- 
soning a  priori  is  impossible,  without  assuming  the  very 
point  at  issue  ;  we  cannot  argue  from  cause  to  effect  in  or- 
der to  prove  the  existence  of  a  First  Cause.  And  if  the 
meaning  of  the  term  be  restricted  to  original  and  intuitive 
perceptions,  which  are  independent  of  experience,  the  dis- 
tinction implied  by  the  two  phrases  does  not  exist.  These  ,  _ 
first  principles  of  belief  are  implied  in  every  act  of  ratioci-  ti^A.4/t^,(/ijra 
nation  ;  they  are  taken  for  granted  in  the  argument  from'^  / 
experience,  and  in  every  other  proof.  Besides,  we  cannot 
go  behind  the  Divine  existence  in  order  to  find  a  basis  of 
proof;  we  cannot  assume  a  more  comprehensive  proposi- 
tion, from  which  the  fact  itself  can  be  deduced.  We  must 
reason  upward  to  the  first  principle  of  all  things  ;  and  every 
argument  urged  with  this  design  must  be  a  posteriori. 

But  the  implied  distinction  really  exists,  though  improp- 


176  '  PALEY :    THE    ARGUMENT 

erly  designated  by  two  such  phrases.  In  the  one  case,  we 
proceed  by  moral  evidence,  and  the  conclusion  is  termed  in 
logic  only  prohahle,  though  it  may  amount  to  the  highest 
degree  of  certainty,  of  which  any  argument  based  on  ex- 
perience is  susceptible.  In  the  other,  the  steps  are  linked 
together  by  demonstrative  evidence,  and  the  conclusion 
follows  with  mathematical  certainty.  We  take  no  account 
of  those,  who  assume  the  Divine  existence  as  an  intuitive 
truth,  because  their  opinions  admit  of  no  argument,  and  to 
them  Natural  Theology  does  not  exist  as  a  distinct  science. 
The  question  between  the  two  modes  of  proof  may  appear 
to  be  one  of  pure  curiosity,  for  the  inquirer  will  surely  ask, 
why  they  cannot  be  placed  side  by  side,  since  neither  ex- 
cludes or  limits  the  other,  but  only  offers  it  fresh  support. 
It  is  not  enough  to  answer,  that  a  position  is  improved  in 
strength  by  removing  every  rotten  or  useless  prop,  which 
gives  at  least  the  appearance  of  insecurity  to  the  fabric. 
The  very  existence  of  the  dispute  shows,  that  neither  of  the 
proofs  is  wholly  unnecessary,  for  there  are  some  minds 
which  rest  with  greater  assurance  on  one  argument,  and 
some  on  another.  Neither  can  remove  what  is  useless  to 
himself,  without  doing  injury  to  his  neighbor.  To  justify 
the  rejection  of  either  mode  of  reasoning,  it  must  be  shown, 
that  our  idea  of  the  point  to  be  proved  is  affected  by  the 
nature  of  the  argumentative  process.  If  the  method  a  poS' 
teriori  leads  to  an  imperfect  or  grovelling  conception  of  the 
Divine  Existence,  if  it  abandons  the  inquirer  when  he  has 
advanced  only  half-way,  forcing  upon  him  a  contingent 
truth,  in  place  of  that  absolute  and  necessary  conviction, 
which,  on  such  a  subject,  his  nature  imperatively  requires  ; 
—  or  if  the  argument  a  priori,  conducts  only  to  a  confused 
and  pantheistic  notion  of  a  God,  if  it  destroys  his  person- 
ality, and  identifies  him  with  an  abstract  principle,  then  it 
becomes  a  duty  not  only  to  prefer  one  mode  of  proof,  but 


FOR    THE    BEING    OP    A    GOD. 


177 


to  expose  the  fallacy  of  the  other.  Here  lies,  we  appre- 
hend, the  real  ground  of  dispute.  Not  only  are  the  two 
methods  unlike;  the  ultimate  theories  are  contradictory. 
The  question  of  preference  between  them  ceases  to  be 
merely  speculative.  It  exerts  a  direct  and  practical  influ- 
ence on  our  whole  scheme  of  religious  belief. 

One    preliminary  remark   is  necessary,  before  entering 
upon  the  main  question.     The  process  by  which  belief  is 
formed,  often  difl'ers  widely  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
substantiated.     Our  opinions  are  often  imbibed  from  educa- 
tion, or  instinct,  or  casual  circumstances.     When  attacked, 
they  are  often  defended  by  arguments,  which  had  no  share 
in  their  formation,  and  in  fact  never  occurred  to  us,  before 
we  had  occasion  to  use   them.     Such  is  the  case  with  the 
elements  of  religious  truth.     They  were  taught  to  us  in  in- 
fancy, or  our   minds    were    predisposed  to   receive  them. 
"  Man,"  says  Benjamin  Constant,  "  is  by  nature  a  religious 
being,  just  as  he  is  endowed  with  the  use  of  language,  and 
a  disposition  for  society.     He  does   not  reason  out  his  first 
creed  ;    he  adopts  it  in  a   great    measure    from   impulse." 
All  this  m.ay  be  true,  but  such  a  disposition  does  not,  in  it- 
self, constitute  an  argument  for  the  truth  of  his  belief.     It 
may  be  made  the  basis  of  such  an  argument,  and  he  may 
reason  up  from  it  till  he  arrives  at  entire  conviction.     Other 
proofs    may  go  along  with  it  of  equal,  or  even   superior 
force,  and  it  is  no  valid  objection  to  them,  that  they  had  no 
influence    in   creating  the  original    disposition   to    believe. 
Very  few  persons,  probably,  have  been  convinced  for  the 
first  time   by  the   proofs  which  theologians  adduce  ;  their 
assent  may  be  modified  or  confirmed  by   such  considera- 
tions;   but  it  proceeded    originally    from   another   source, 
and  was  supported  by  different  influences. 

The   distinction   between  moral  and   demonstrative  evi- 
dence, relates  not  merely  to  the  inherent  difference  between 


178  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

the  two  processes,  but  to  the  difference  between  the  truths, 
which  are  substantiated  by  them.  Historical  facts  rest 
upon  one  ;  abstract  propositions  upon  the  other.  The  cre- 
ation of  the  world  is  a  fact,  just  as  much  as  the  foundation 
of  a  particular  city  ;  it  can  be  proved  only  by  testimony,  or 
from  data  collected  by  observation  and  experience.  Ab- 
stract propositions  can  lead  only  to  what  is  abstract,  unless 
more  is  gathered  in  the  conclusion  than  what  was  distribut- 
ed in  the  premises.  The  existence  of  a  creative  Deity, 
then,  can  be  proved  only  by  what  is  called  the  argument  a 
posteriori.  In  strictness,  the  present  existence  of  external 
nature  is  a  fact  known  only  by  experience ;  it  is  not  a  ne- 
cessary truth,  for  we  can  conceive  of  its  non-existence,  and 
the  idealist  philosopher  boldly  denies  its  reality.  It  cannot 
be  assumed  as  a  datum  in  any  species  of  demonstrative 
reasoning.  Here  lies  the  great  defect  of  the  argument 
adopted  by  Clarke.  All  activity,  all  manifestation  of  self, 
may  be  denied  to  the  infinite  Being,  whose  existence  he 
endeavored  to  prove.  His  argument  must  be  eked  out  with 
facts  drawn  from  experience,  or  the  doctrine  will  coincide 
with  that  of  Epicurus,  who  admitted  the  existence  of  a 
God,  but  denied  that  he  had  any  agency  in  the  affairs  of 
this  world.  "  Quce,  natura  primiim  nulla  esse  potest ;  idque 
videns  Epicurus,  re  tollit,  oratione  relinquit,  Deos^  * 

But  we  go  further.  The  great  truth  of  Natural  Theology 
is  in  itself  a  fact  of  momentous  interest.  The  being  of  a 
God  is  a  reality,  an  existence  in  concrete.  As  such,  it  is 
not  an  object  of  mathematical  or  abstract  reasoning.  All 
demonstration  begins  by  arbitrary  definitions,  and  ends  in 
abstractions.  We  might  as  well  think  of  applying  it  to 
prove  the  fact  of  a  deluge,  or  of  any  other  event  in  the 
world's  history,  or  to  show  the  present  existence  of  an  elec- 

*  De  JVatura  Deorum,  I.  123. 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  179 

trie  fluid  pervading  all  matter,  as  to  attempt  using  it  in  this 
inquiry.  We  do  not  limit  its  application  to  mathematics, 
nor  overlook  its  successful  introduction  into  the  mixed  sci- 
ences. Many  propositions  in  ethics  may  be  established 
with  the  same  certainty,  that  attends  the  conclusions  of  the 
geometer,  and  by  a  perfectly  similar  process.  Still,  they 
are  abstract  propositions,  and  their  application  to  particular 
cases,  to  the  conduct  of  individuals,  must  always  be  contin- 
gent. The  reason  is  obvious.  We  can  speak  with  certain- 
ty of  a  subject  of  reasoning,  only  when  its  properties  are 
all  known  and  fixed,  and  its  relations  are  determinate.  Par- 
ticular substances,  things  existing  in  concrete,  cannot  be 
thus  perfectly  determined.  We  can  never  be  sure,  that  all 
their  qualities  have  been  taken  into  view,  —  that  the  con- 
clusion, at  which  we  have  arrived,  may  not  be  vitiated  by 
something  omitted  in  the  primary  definition.  Or  the  attri- 
butes may  shift  during  the  process,  or  attendant  circum- 
stances may  modify  them  in  some  unforeseen  way ;  and 
the  possibility  of  such  change,  small  though  it  be,  still 
makes  the  result  contingent.  If  a  stone  be  propelled  by 
hand,  no  mathematical  skill,  no  acquaintance  with  the  laws 
of  motion,  can  mark  out  with  precision  the  curve  that  it 
will  describe,  or  the  exact  'point  at  which  it  will  reach  the 
earth.  There  are  a  hundred  attendant  circumstances,  which 
cannot  be  accurately  appreciated,  or  stated  with  precision, 
but  which  must  modify  the  result.  But  let  the  problem  be 
stated  hypothetically,  let  it  be  a  stone  of  ideal,  and  there- 
fore exact,  measurement,  let  the  propelling  power  be  as- 
sumed of  an  exact  force,  let  it  be  taken  for  granted,  that  no 
extraneous  influences  can  operate,  —  and  the  geometer 
will  show  the  course  that  the  missile  must  take,  and  the 
spot  where  it  must  fall  to  the  ground.  The  result  can  nev- 
er be  verified  by  experiment,  but  it  must  be  true. 

Another  instance  may  be  taken  from  the  very  elements 


180  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

of  mathematical  science.  The  geometer  does  not,  as  his 
name  would  imply,  measure  the  real  earth.  No  bounda- 
ries are  marked  out,  no  actual  limits  are  fixed,  with  the 
perfect  precision  which  his  method  requires.  He  measures 
an  ideal  extension  ;  his  figures  are  perfect  by  hypothesis ; 
they  are  limited  by  the  supposition  to  given  conditions. 
Even  the  diagram  before  him  is  not  the  true  object  of  his 
reasoning,  but  only  its  symbol.  He  proceeds,  therefore, 
with  absolute  certainty  to  a  determinate  result.  The  law 
or  rule,  which  he  has  investigated  and  established,  is  appli- 
ed, it  is  true,  to  actual  measurements ;  yet  only  by  approx- 
imation. The  nicest  instrument  which  the  skill  of  a 
Troughton  or  a  Ramsden  ever  framed,  only  approximates 
the  ideal  perfection  that  the  mathematician  requires.  The 
abstract  result  is  certain  ;  its  application  to  real  things,  to  ex- 
istences in  concrete,  is  contingent.  Such  is  the  nature  of  de- 
monstrative reasoning,  that  this  law  must  always  hold.  The 
mathematician  owes  his  success,  the  precision  and  certainty 
of  his  results,  only  to  his  quitting  the  real  world,  and  deal- 
ing with  pure  abstractions  and  hypotheses,  to  which,  in 
strictness,  his  conclusions  are  limited.  He  who  would  ob- 
tain results  of  the  same  character,  must  pursue  the  same 
method.  The  moment  he  leaves  this  ideal  region,  and 
comes  down  to  real  things  and  events,  to  the  actual  instead 
of  the  possible,  the  sphere  of  demonstration  ceases. 

The  question  whether  demonstration  is  limited  to  quan- 
tity, or  how  far  it  is  applicable  in  morals,  is  hardly  worth 
discussing,  for  it  cannot  affect  the  conclusion  which  we 
have  just  established.  We  incline  to  believe,  that  no  prin- 
ciple, out  of  pure  mathematics,  can  be  demonstrated,  which 
is  not  in  itself  intuitively  certain.  There  are  moral,  as  well 
as  physical  truths,  which  can  be  built  up  on  others  of  a 
similar  character,  or  deduced  from  them,  there  being  a 
necessary  connexion  among  them.     But  in  every  such  case 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  181 

it  will  probably  be  found,  that  the  reasoning  is  unnecessary, 
because  the  truth  of  the  first  proposition  is  intuitively  per- 
ceived, and  therefore  it  needs  no  support.  But,  however 
this  may  be,  absolute  certainty  belongs  to  the  proposition, 
only  when  couched  in  general  terms.  It  can  be  applied  to 
particular  cases  only  by  approximation.  The  moral  judg- 
ments of  men  do  not  always  coincide ;  some  actions  are 
considered  as  meritorious  in  a  particular  age,  or  among 
certain  nations,  which  are  justly  censured  by  posterity,  or 
by  a  neighboring  people.  Such  disagreement,  we  appre- 
hend, may  be  often  explained  by  the  distinction  here  point- 
ed out.  The  great  principles  of  moral  law  must  be  the 
same  in  every  age  and  place,  for  the  dictates  of  conscience 
are  universal,  and  cannot  be  misunderstood.  But  doubts 
frequently  arise  when  we  come  to  apply  these  principles, 
and  a  faulty  rule  may  easily  grow  out  of  a  single  erroneous 
application. 

If  this  view  of  the  nature  and  province  of  demonstrative 
reasoning  be  correct,  the  impossibility  of  applying  it  to 
prove  the  existence  of  a  God  is  perfectly  manifest.  Every 
attempt  of  the  sort  will  be  found  to  establish,  not  a  Being, 
but  a  principle  ;  —  not  a  particular  fact,  but  a  general 
truth.  The  name  of  the  Supreme  Being  is  often  vaguely 
and  erroneously  applied,  because  his  existence  is  a  myste- 
ry, and  his  essence  is  unknown.  Though  it  would  be  pre- 
sumptuous to  attempt  a  strict  definition  of  the  term,  some 
applications  of  it  are  so  evidently  erroneous,  that  they  may 
be  rejected  at  once.  The  pantheist  extends  it  to  universal 
nature  ;  the  mystical  philosopher  refines  it  into  an  abstract 
idea.  In  this  way,  indeed,  the  great  truth  may  be  demon- 
strated by  reasoning  a  priori ;  for  we  have  intuitive  evi- 
dence, that  something  exists,  and,  according  to  Spinoza, 
the  being  of  a  God  includes  all  existence.  All  the  great 
principles  of  morality  are  truths  independent  of  all  experi- 
16 


182  paley:  the  argument 

ence,  and  if  these  constitute  a  Deity,  if  his  nature  be  limited 
to  a  few  of  its  attributes,  if  the  distinction  between  substance 
and  accident  be  entirely  done  away,  then,  indeed,  the  first 
theorem  of  Natural  Theology  becomes  a  self-evident  prop- 
osition. 

There  cannot  be  a  happier  illustration  of  these  remarks 
than  is  afforded  by  the  first  step  in  Clarke's  celebrated 
argument  a  priori.  The  proof,  briefly  stated,  is  as  follows. 
Space  and  time  are  alike  infinite  and  necessary,  for  we 
cannot  conceive  of  their  limitation  or  their  non-existence  ; 
they  are  not  in  themselves  substances,  but  attributes,  and 
as  such  necessarily  presuppose  a  substance,  without  which 
they  could  not  exist ;  and  this  substance  is,  consequently, 
infinite  and  self-existent.  Now,  the  word  substance,  as  here 
used,  is  entirely  indefinite ;  the  idea  of  it  includes  neither 
personality  nor  intelligence.  The  argument,  at  the  utmost, 
proves  only  that  something  exists,  and  this  something  Clarke 
immediately  assumes  to  be  a  particular  Being.  The  soph- 
ism consists  in  this  illogical  transition  from  the  general  to 
the  particular,  from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete ;  and  a 
more  palpable  one  can  hardly  be  imagined.  Besides,  the 
proposition,  that  space  and  time  are  attributes,  if  not  wholly 
unintelligible,  must  be  understood  in  the  same  sense,  as  the 
proposition  that  human  beings  exist  in  space  and  time.  Fi- 
nite space  and  time  are  qualities  of  man,  in  the  same  way 
that  eternity  and  immensity  are  attributes  of  the  Supreme 
Being.  Now,  human  beings  are  not  necessary  or  self-ex- 
istent. If  finite  space  and  time  do  not  necessitate  a  finite 
substance,  so  neither  do  the  ideas  of  immensity  or  eternity 
compel  us  to  believe  in  an  infinite  substance.  The  whole 
argument  rests  on  an  abuse  of  language.  Time  and  space 
are  not  attributes,  but  conditions  of  heing.  We  cannot 
conceive  of  any  thing,  except  as  existent  under  these  con- 
ditions ;  but  we  may  conceive,  that  the  conditions  are  ful- 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  183 

filled,  while  the  reality  is  yet  wanting.  In  Clarke's  argu- 
ment the  prerequisite  is  made  to  change  places  with  the 
reality,  or  the  thing  conditioned.  He  infers  the  presence 
of  the  thing,  from  the  fulfilment  of  the  conditions,  which  is 
precisely  inverting  the  two  terms  of  the  only  legitimate  in- 
ference. 

The  same  argument  assumes  a  more  vague  and  mystical 
form  in  the  hands  of  Cousin,  who  avoids  the  sophism,  it  is 
true,  but  jumps  to  the  conclusion.  Eternity  and  immen- 
sity are  generaUzed  by  him,  as  both  forms  of  the  Infinite. 
The  reality  is  then  inferred  from  the  idea,  and  the  sub- 
stance is  avowedly  swallowed  up  in  the  attribute.  The 
absurdity  of  supposing  that  a  thing  exists,  because  we  have 
an  idea  of  it,  can  only  be  equalled  by  that  of  considering 
our  imperfect  notion  of  the  Infinite  as  constituting  the  es- 
sence of  the  Divinity.  Such  are  the  fallacies  into  which 
men  of  acute  and  ingenious  intellect  are  betrayed  by  the 
love  of  system,  and  the  vain  desire  of  setting  forth  their 
random  speculations  under  the  pompous  garb  of  demon- 
strative reasoning. 

The  more  judicious  followers  of  Cousin  put  a  gloss  upon 
his  argument,  by  which  it  is  rendered  more  intelligible  and 
less  offensive.  Their  reasoning  may  be  briefly  stated  as 
follows  ;  —  All  our  perceptions  relate  to  things  which  are 
known  to  be  finite,  limited,  and  contingent ;  such  ideas 
necessarily  suggest  and  force  upon  the  mind  the  correlative 
conception  of  something  that  is  Infinite,  Absolute,  and 
Necessary.  In  the  same  way  that  the  former  class  of  ideas 
is  accompanied  with  an  irresistible  conviction,  that  some- 
thing exists  to  which  they  correspond,  so  those  of  the  latter 
class  compel  us  to  believe,  that  there  is  a  Being,  who  is 
clothed  with  these  attributes,  and  manifests  himself  in  this 
form  to  the  human  soul.  It  is  evident,  that  this  argument 
is  overstated  ;  for,  if  it  were  correct,  it  would   be  quite  as 


184  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

difficult  to  doubt  the  being  of  a  God,  as  to  question  the 
reality  of  our  own  existence.  In  consciousness  there  is  di- 
rect evidence  of  the  existence  of  self,  and  perception  gives 
innmediate  witness  of  the  reality  of  an  outward  world.  The 
knowledge  of  the  true  nature  of  both  these  objects  of 
thought,  as  finite  and  limited,  is  subsequent  to  our  recog- 
nition of  them  as  realities.  In  the  other  case,  the  idea  of 
the  quality  suggests  the  object  to  which  it  belongs,  but  this 
suggestion  alone  can  never  be  made  the  basis  of  absolute 
conviction.  This  is  one  mode  of  explaining  the  origin,  or 
first  development,  of  the  religious  principle  in  the  soul, 
but  it  does  not  prove  the  existence  of  that  Being,  to  whom 
religious  feelings  are  directed.  It  is  like  the  argument  for 
immortality  founded  on  the  boundless  aspirations  of  the 
spirit  of  man  ;  —  a  consideration,  certainly,  of  some  weight, 
but  one  that  would  give  little  confidence,  if  other  proofs 
were  wanting. 

There  is  but  one  other  form  of  stating  this  argument, 
that  now  claims  attention.  It  is  that  by  Descartes,  whose 
speculative  and  systematizing  spirit  made  him  far  more 
anxious  to  round  off  his  own  theories,  than  to  establish  any 
truth  in  natural  religion.  The  argument  a  priori  in  his 
hands  is  a  mere  brick  in  his  philosophical  edifice.  We 
A.  ^iiCW(n[  give  the  heads  of  it  at  some  length  ;  for,  though  frequently 
i(><A:uy'  appealed  to,  we  have  seen  no  clear  account  and  criticism 
of  it  in  any  publication  of  recent  date.  It  is  introduced  at 
that  stage  of  his  inquiries,  when,  having  commenced  with 
doubting  every  thing,  he  had  as  yet  proved  only  the  ex- 
istence of  himself,  and  the  presence  of  ideas  to  his  mind. 
Whence  these  ideas  proceed,  argues  Descartes,  —  wheth- 
er any  prototype  or  cause  of  them  exists  in  the  outward 
world,  —  is  another  question,  with  which  at  present  we 
have  nothing  to  do.  But  whether  I  dream  or  wake,  the 
reality  of  the  ideas  themselves,  considered  simply  as  objects 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  185 

present  to  the  mind,  is  unquestionable.  Now  it  is  evident, 
that  a  cause  must  have  at  least  as  much  force  and  reality 
as  its  effect.  For  how  can  it  create  or  bestow  that  which 
it  has  not  in  itself?  The  ideas  in  my  mind  are  images  or 
pictures,  which  may  want  something  of  the  perfection  that 
is  in  their  archetype,  but  cannot  go  beyond  the  magnitude 
and  excellence  of  their  cause.  Among  other  ideas  in  the 
mind,  I  find  one  of  the  Deity,  understanding  thereby  an  in- 
finite and  independent  Being,  the  highest  Intelligence,  the 
Omnipotent  cause  of  all  things.  The  more  this  notion  is 
examined,  the  more  evident  it  is,  that  it  does  not  proceed 
from  me  alone,  that  it  is  not  the  mere  offspring  of  my  ima- 
gination. Therefore,  God  necessarily  exists ;  for  the  idea 
of  an  infinite  being  cannot  be  created  by  me,  who  am  finite, 
but  it  must  proceed  from  some  other  substance,  which  is  it- 
self infinite.  It  cannot  be  objected  to  this  argument,  that 
the  Infinite  is  not  perceived  by  a  positive  idea,  but  only 
through  a  negation  of  the  Finite,  just  as  I  conceive  of  rest 
and  darkness  through  a  negation  of  motion  and  light.  For 
there  is  more  reality  in  an  infinite  substance,  than  in  a  finite 
one,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  former  is  prior  in  time  to  that 
of  the  latter;  —  that  is,  I  have  an  idea  of  God,  before  I 
have  one  of  myself  The  acknowledgment  of  a  want  and 
the  sense  of  imperfection  can  proceed  only  from  the  idea 
of  a  more  perfect  being,  by  comparison  with  whom  I  per- 
ceive my  own  defects. 

It  only  remains,  therefore,  to  inquire  how  this  idea  of 
God  was  obtained.  It  came  not  from  the  senses,  for  it  did 
not  rise  unexpectedly,  creating  a  feeling  of  surprise,  as  the 
ideas  of  external  things  do,  when  they  strike  upon  the  or- 
gans of  perception  for  the  first  time.  Nor  was  it  made  by 
my  own  agency,  for  I  can  neither  enlarge  nor  diminish  it. 
It  is  infinite,  and  therefore  cannot  be  increased.  An  idea 
of  perfection  cannot  be  lessened,  except  only  by  removing 
16* 


186  paley:   the  argument 

it,  and  substituting  another  in  its  place.  As  the  idea,  then, 
had  not  its  origin  from  the  senses,  and  is  not  factitious,  it 
must  be  innate ;  it  bears  the  artificer's  own  stamp,  put  upon 
his  work  to  show  who  made  it.  In  fine,  "  when  I  turn  my 
attention  within,  I  perceive  that  I  am  a  being  incomplete, 
dependent  upon  another,  and  reaching  after  something 
higher  and  better  than  my  present  state ;  and  that  He,  on 
whom  I  depend,  enjoys  all  the  perfections  towards  which  I 
aspire,  —  enjoys  them  not  merely  potentially  and  to  an  in- 
definite extent,  but  in  very  truth  and  in  an  infinite  degree. 
My  nature  could  not  be  what  it  is,  —  that  is,  it  could  not 
possess  this  innate  conception  of  the  Deity,  —  unless  he 
actually  existed,  and  possessed  all  those  attributes,  which 
my  thoughts  can  in  no  wise  picture  forth,  or  comprehend, 
and  marked  by  no  defects."  Nothing  can  be  an  attribute 
of  the  Divine  nature,  which  implies  limit  or  imperfection. 
Now,  all  fraud  or  violation  of  confidence  proceeds  from 
some  moral  defect.  Consequently,  we  owe  implicit  faith  to 
the  testimony  of  those  faculties,  with  which  our  Maker  has 
endowed  us,  since  he  is  a  Being  of  perfect  veracity,  and 
cannot  wilfully  deceive.  Thus,  by  contemplating  the  nature 
of  the  Deity,  we  rise  from  skepticism  to  a  system  of  sure 
and  well-grounded  belief. 

This  sketch  is  sufficient  to  show,  that  Descartes  used  the 
great  doctrine  of  natural  theology  only  as  a  stepping-stone 
in  his  philosophical  inquiries,  as  a  means  of  accrediting  the 
human  faculties,  and  thereby  of  rising  from  universal 
doubt  to  a  confident  anticipation  of  success  in  the  search 
after  truth.  The  peculiarities  of  the  argument,  also,  may 
be  traced  to  the  use  which  the  author  intended  to  make  of 
it ;  for  he  could  not  avail  himself  of  any  evidence  from  the 
external  world,  nor  rest  his  proof  upon  any  preestablished 
fact  or  principle,  except  that  of  his  own  existence  and  the 
presence  of  ideas  to  his  mind.    To  reason  from  final  causes, 


rOR    THE    BEING    OF   A    GOD.  187 

would  expose  him  to  the  charge  of  first  appeahng  to  the 
divine  attributes  in  proof  of  the  authority  of  his  faculties, 
and  then  of  appealing  to  these  faculties  in  proof  of  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God.  He  flattered  himself,  that  the  reasoning 
was  wholly  a  priori^  and  that  it  amounted  to  a  perfect 
demonstration  of  the  doctrine.  As  such  it  was  generally 
received  by  the  eminent  men  of  his  time,  and  even  Locke 
ventured  to  express  his  dissent  only  in  a  cautious  and  guard- 
ed manner.  As  in  all  other  instances  in  the  "  Essay,"  of 
controverting  the  doctrines  of  Descartes,  he  does  not  men- 
tion their  author,  not  caring  to  appear  openly  as  the  oppo- 
nent of  a  writer,  whose  authority  stood  so  high  in  the  phi- 
losophical world.  "  How  far  the  idea  of  a  most  perfect 
being,"  he  remarks,  "  which  a  man  may  frame  in  his  mind, 
does  or  does  not  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  I  will  not 
here  examine.  For,  in  the  different  make  of  men's  tem- 
pers and  application  of  their  thoughts,  some  arguments  pre- 
vail more  on  one,  and  some  on  another,  for  the  confirmation 
of  the  same  truth.  But  yet,  I  think,  this  I  may  say,  that  it 
is  an  ill  way  of  establishing  this  truth,  and  silencing  atheists, 
to  lay  the  whole  stress  of  so  important  a  point  as  this  upon 
that  sole  foundation  ;  and  to  take  some  men's  having  that 
idea  of  God  in  their  minds,  (for  it  is  evident  some  men  have 
none,  and  some  worse  than  none,  and  the  most  very  differ- 
ent,) for  the  only  proof  of  a  Deity."  *  The  objection  is 
here  rather  hinted  at  than  openly  propounded,  but  it  is 
a  fatal  one.  Locke's  tolerant  and  liberal  disposition  for- 
bade him  to  reject  entirely  an  argument,  which  might 
have  some  weight  with  minds  peculiarly  constituted,  even 
while  he  showed  the  weakness  of  its  claims  as  a  demon- 
stration. 

We   are  far  from  denying  any  utility  to  this  or  the  other 

*  Essay  on  Human  Understanding ^  Book  4.  Ch.  x.  §  7. 


188  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

so-called  arguments  a  priori.  Dugald  Stewart  long  since 
remarked,  that  there  is  something  peculiarly  wonderful  and 
overwhelming  in  those  conceptions  of  Immensity  and  Eter- 
nity, which  it  is  not  less  impossible  to  banish  from  our 
thoughts,  than  the  consciousness  of  our  own  existence ;  and 
that,  when  we  have  once  established,  from  the  evidences  of 
design  everywhere  manifested  around  us,  the  existence  of 
an  intelligent  and  powerful  Creator,  we  are  unavoidably 
led  to  apply  these  conceptions,  and  to  conceive  him  as 
filling  the  infinite  extent  of  space  and  duration  with  his 
presence  and  his  power.  So,  too,  the  notion  of  necessary 
existence,  which  is,  perhaps,  first  derived  from  this  source, 
becomes  more  easy  of  apprehension  when  applied  to  the 
Supreme  Being.  Whatever  lifts  the  mind  by  such  power- 
ful means  from  contemplating  the  finite  and  contingent 
things  of  this  world,  cannot  fail  to  predispose  it  towards 
receiving  the  sublime  doctrines  of  natural  theology.  It  is 
only  when  the  claims  of  such  reasoning  are  injudiciously 
urged,  when  it  is  set  forth  as  a  perfect  demonstration,  that 
it  becomes  necessary  to  examine  its  validity,  and  to  guard 
against  arguments  of  the  same  class,  that  are  retorted 
against  those  proofs  of  the  being  of  a  God,  which  are  open 
to  every  capacity,  and  which  constitute  to  most  minds  the 
sole  ground  of  belief.  If  such  speculations  are  viewed 
only  in  their  proper  light,  as  abstract  theories  falling  within 
the  province  of  the  metaphysician,  or  if  they  are  brought 
in  only  as  subsidiary  to  the  real  argument,  by  which  great 
practical  truths  are  established,  much  good  may  be  the 
result.  But  these  fine-spun  reveries  of  an  ingenious  and 
philosophical  mind  form  weapons,  that  may  be  wielded  on 
either  side  with  nearly  equal  effect.  If  their  use  is  allowed 
to  be  unexceptionable  in  such  a  cause,  if  even  the  whole 
weight  of  proof  is  rested  upon  them,  then  the  objections  of 
Hume  and  other  skeptical  metaphysicians  must  be  admitted 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  189 

to  be  fairly  and  appropriately  urged,  and  must  be  refuted 
by  arguments  of  the  same  class.  But  let  the  nature  of  the 
subject  be  properly  considered,  and  the  reasoning  confined 
to  the  ordinary  channel  for  the  proof  of  facts,  and  these 
cobweb  difficulties  may  be  dispersed  by  a  breath,  though 
they  would  otherwise  be  powerful  enough  to  shake  the 
■whole  fabric  of  religious  faith. 

The  argument  of  Descartes,  when  closely  scrutinized, 
will  be  found  to  differ  very  little  from  those  which  we  have 
already  examined.  The  great  fallacy  in  it  consists  in  sup- 
posing, that  the  enlarged  and  grand  conception  of  Deity, 
which  the  mind  gradually  forms  by  precept  and  reflection, 
is  wholly  original  and  spontaneous  in  its  growth,  because 
some  of  its  elements  undoubtedly  possess  this  character. 
Descartes  did  not  consider  how  difficult  of  execution  was 
his  plan  to  revoke  all  his  past  opinions  into  doubt,  and  to 
present  his  mind  as  a  tabula  rasa  for  the  reception  of  pure 
and  well-accredited  truth.  The  thoughts  and  impressions 
of  a  whole  lifetime  could  not  be  wiped  away  by  a  single 
effort  of  the  will.  They  had  left  indelible  traces  on  his  in- 
tellect, and  with  all  his  acuteness  he  could  not  distinguish 
between  them  and  the  original  characters,  in  which  he 
would  fain  recognise  the  handwriting  of  his  Maker.  The 
ideas  of  infinitude  and  perfection  are  the  only  ones,  the 
spontaneous  origin  of  which  can  be  affirmed  with  the  least 
shade  of  probability  ;  and  how  far  are  these  abstract  and 
general  notions  from  constituting  our  whole  conception  of 
the  Supreme  Being.  Personality,  real  existence,  unity,  and 
activity  must  all  be  joined  to  these  two  abstract  notions, 
before  the  idea  is  complete,  and  he  must  be  a  bold  theorist, 
indeed,  who  will  maintain  the  primitive  character,  the 
origin  a  priori^  of  all  these  elements.  Thus  the  proof  by 
Descartes  appears  nearly  the  same  with  that  by  Clarke,  the 
only  difference  being,  that  the  former  argues  from  the  in- 


190  paley:  the  argument 

nate  and  spontaneous  character  of  the  two  ideas  up  to  the 
Being  who  implanted  them  in  the  mind,  while  the  latter 
lays  the  foundation  of  his  reasoning  upon  their  necessary 
existence  as  attributes.  Of  course,  Clarke's  argument  is 
the  only  one,  which  has  any  pretensions  to  the  title  of  rea- 
soning a  priori.  It  is  the  same  thing,  whether  we  reason 
from  the  anatomy  of  the  body  or  that  of  the  mind,  when 
the  peculiar  structure  of  each  is  the  only  ground  for  affirm- 
ing, that  it  is  the  work  of  an  intelligent  Creator. 

The  same  remark  applies  to  the  other  form  of  Clarke's 
argument,  of  which  we  have,  as  yet,  taken  no  notice.  It  is 
nothing  but  reasoning  a  posteriori  in  disguise.  He  begins 
with  the  proposition,  that  "  something  has  existed  from  all 
eternity  "  ;  from  which  it  follows,  that  "  either  there  has 
always  existed  some  one  unchangeable  and  independent 
Being,  from  which  all  other  beings,  that  are  or  ever  were 
in  the  universe,  have  received  their  original ;  or  else  there 
has  been  an  infinite  succession  of  changeable  and  depend- 
ent beings,  produced  one  from  another  in  an  endless  pro- 
gression, without  any  original  cause  at  all."  It  is  evident, 
that  the  word  somethings  afterwards  explained  as  an  "  infi- 
nite succession  of  being,"  is  here  skilfully  used  as  the  most 
vague  and  general  expression  for  the  universe  of  animate 
and  inanimate  things,  in  order  to  cover  up  the  fact,  that  this 
pretended  demonstration  a  priori  actually  rests  upon  an 
empirical  datum^  a  truth  made  known  only  by  experience. 
The  reasoning  proceeds  by  inference  from  the  world  to  the 
world's  creator  ;  and,  though  not  so  clear  and  satisfactory 
to  most  minds  as  the  argument  from  design,  it  belongs  to 
the  same  class  of  proofs,  and,  when  fairly  stated,  is  perhaps 
equally  decisive.  We  admit  its  cogency,  and  are  certainly 
very  far  from  charging  Clarke  with  any  indirection  design- 
ed to  deceive,  when  he  presented  it  under  such  phraseolo- 
gy.     His   mind  had  a  strong  bias  towards  metaphysical 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  191 

reasoning,  and  the  vagueness  of  the  terms,  which  he  was 
compelled  to  adopt,  often  blinded  him  as  to  the  true  char- 
acter of  his  arguments. 

If  this  examination  has  shown  any  reason  to  believe,  that 
metaphysical  arguments  are  inapplicable  and  inconclusive 
in  proving  the  existence  of  a  God,  we  may  hope  to  show, 
also,  that  they  are  equally  sophistical  and  out  of  place, 
when  brought  forward  as  objections  to  this  great  doctrine. 
Hume  and  other  writers  of  his  class  are  only  formidable  on 
their  own  ground.  Many  passages  in  his  writings  indicate, 
that  he  was  himself  aware  of  the  true  character  of  his  fine- 
spun skepticism,  and  that  he  proposed  his  doubts  as  mere 
philosophical  diversions  and  exercises  in  dialectics,  without 
any  expectation  of  influencing  the  conduct  of  men,  or  of 
changing  their  opinions  on  practical  subjects.  Many  theists 
have  attempted  to  answer  him  on  his  own  principles,  and 
have  met  with  all  the  success,  perhaps,  which  is  possible  in 
such  an  enterprise.  But  it  is  characteristic  of  such  engage- 
ments, that  the  victory  should  remain  doubtful.  We  reach 
firm  ground  for  the  discussion,  and  gain  some  hope  of  ter- 
minating it  successfully,  only  when  we  have  fairly  deter- 
mined the  point  that  is  to  be  proved  ;  for  then  the  proper 
mode  of  arriving  at  it  will  be  manifest.  It  is  impossible  to 
tell  by  what  road  we  are  to  travel,  till  we  know  what  is  to 
be  the  end  of  our  journey. 

We  understand  the  question  to  relate  to  the  being  of  a 
personal  God,  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  really  dis- 
tinct from  nature  though  pervading  it  with  his  presence,  the 
infinitely  wise  and  active  Cause  and  Ruler  of  all  things. 
We  have  seen,  that  strict  demonstrative  reasoning,  or  the 
argument  a  priori,  so  called,  is  powerless  for  establishing 
the  fact  of  such  an  Existence ;  that  it  can  only  prove  an 
abstract  proposition,  such  as  the  necessary  character  of  an 
idea,  or  the  immutability  of  a  principle.    Descartes,  Clarke, 


192  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

and  others,  who  first  reduced  this  argument  to  shape,  did 
not  see  that  it  led  only  to  such  a  barren  conclusion.  Oth- 
erwise, they  would  have  rejected  the  reasoning  at  once,  as 
insufficient,  for  they  held  to  the  common  notion  respecting 
the  nature  of  Deity.  But  in  our  own  days,  this  lame  and 
impotent  result  has  been  avowedly  held  forth  as  the  only 
proper  conception  of  a  God.  His  existence  is  reasoned 
away  into  an  abstraction.  His  nature  is  identified  with  a 
universal  idea.  Without  any  taste  for  denunciation,  or  any 
wish  to  throw  odium  on  the  persons  entertaining  such  views, 
many  of  whom  have  pure  minds  and  excellent  characters, 
we  must  still  consider  such  doctrines  as  amounting  to  down- 
right atheism.  The  first  dogma  of  natural  religion  affirms 
the  distinct  existence  of  an  individual  Being,  whose  unity 
and  personality  are  not  mere  attributes,  that  may  be  affirm- 
ed or  denied  at  pleasure,  the  great  fact  itself  still  remain- 
ing ;  but  they  are  definitions  of  his  nature,  necessary  parts 
of  our  conception  of  him,  and,  as  such,  cannot  be  denied 
without  rejecting  the  whole  doctrine.  This  proposition  is 
so  obvious,  that  it  is  hardly  susceptible  of  comment  or  ex- 
planation. A  general  idea,  a  law,  a  principle,  is  a  fantas- 
tic thing  of  man's  device,  a  mere  word,  which  has  neither 
substance  nor  reality,  and  which  was  invented  with  no  ob- 
ject beyond  the  convenience  of  thought  and  the  uses  of 
language.  Take  all  the  great  laws  of  ethics,  for  instance. 
The  emotion  excited  by  the  bare  mention  of  moral  princi- 
ple, the  reverence  which  we  express  for  truth  and  justice, 
were  first  excited  by  the  manifestation  of  these  qualities  in 
particular  acts.  It  is  the  individual  man,  whose  estimable 
conduct  draws  forth  that  glow  of  moral  approbation,  which 
is  subsequently  transferred,  by  the  association  of  ideas,  to 
the  principles  of  that  conduct  considered  in  the  abstract.  If 
those,  who  would  put  reverence  for  moral  law  in  the  place 
of  religious  feeling,  who  would   direct  adoration  only  to 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  "  193 

purity  and  hollaess  in  the  abstract,  and  not  to  the  one 
Being  of  whom  they  are  tlie  attributes,  were  consistent  in 
their  belief,  or  saw  the  reach  and  application  of  their  own 
principles,  they  would  worship  only  their  brother  man,  and 
him  only  in  particular  cases,  and  to  that  extent  which  his 
conduct  merited. 

We  may  appear  to  labor  this  point  too  much  ;  but  the 
tone  which  speculation  has  recently  assumed  on  these  sub- 
jects, justifies  and  requires  a  full  exposition  of  this  absurd 
and  noxious  doctrine.  The  infidelity  with  which  the  pres- 
ent age  is  menaced,  is  not  the  coarse  and  sneering  unbelief, 
the  dogmatical  and  blasphemous  expression  of  which  revolts 
us  in  the  writings  of  the  free-thinking  philosophers  of  the 
last  century.  Good  taste,  if  not  sound  reason,  rejects  such 
indecencies,  and  at  the  present  day  we  are  too  refined,  if 
not  too  wise,  to  tolerate  them.  The  errors  which  now 
threaten  to  obtain  some  prevalence,  belong  to  the  same  class 
with  the  sentimental  deism  of  Rousseau,  and  the  mystical 
atheism  of  Shelley.  The  garb  is  more  seductive,  but  the 
doctrine  is  not  less  pernicious.  Fervid  but  unmeaning  ex- 
pressions of  reverence  for  the  principles  of  right  conduct 
and  the  abstract  conceptions  of  ethics,  are  substituted,  not 
merely  for  the  language  of  piety,  but  for  the  belief  in  a. 
Supreme  Being.  Good  sense  is  outraged,  and  all  right  feel- 
ing profaned,  by  an  absurd  transposition  of  the  actual  and 
the  ideal  ;  all  reality  being  denied  to  former  distinct  objects 
of  religious  faith,  while  it  is  affirmed  of  shadows  and  ab- 
stractions. Thus,  the  natural  fountain  of  awe  and  adora- 
tion in  the  human  heart,  deep-seated  and  perennial,  which 
should  flow  forth  only  at  the  name  of  the  Infinite  One,  finds 
vent  in  an  unmeaning  rant  about  mere  words,  —  shades 
and  semblances  of  things,  too  unsubstantial  for  language  to 
describe,  or  intellect  to  comprehend. 

We  return  to  the  consideration  of  the  argument  a  poste- 
17 


194  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

riori.  The  great  merit  of  Lord  Brougham's  "  Preliminary- 
Discourse  "  consists  in  the  clear  perception  and  statement 
of  this  truth  ;  that  the  first  branch  of  Natural  Theology  is 
strictly  an  inductive  science,  formed  and  supported  hy  the 
same  kind  of  reasoning  on  which  Physics  and  Natural 
Philosophy  are  luilt.  "  There  is  as  great  an  appearance 
of  diversity  between  the  manner  in  which  we  arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  different  truths  in  those  inductive  sciences, 
as  there  is  between  the  nature  of  any  such  inductive  in- 
vestigation and  the  proofs  of  the  ontological  branches  of 
Natural  Theology."  This  is  an  important  and  fruitful 
proposition,  which  we  believe  may  be  established  to  the 
full  conviction  of  every  unprejudiced  mind.  Though  not 
carried  out  and  applied  with  that  fullness  of  illustration, 
which  the  subject  requires,  especially  in  reference  to  the 
arguments  of  skeptical  metaphysicians,  the  statement  of  it 
shows  the  writer's  clear  understanding  of  the  logical  nature 
of  the  question,  and  the  stress  put  upon  it  denotes  his 
sense  of  its  importance. 

If  it  be  true,  most  of  the  objections  urged  by  Hume, 
Kant,  and  others,  are  not  simply  evaded,  but  entirely  put 
aside  as  irrelevant,  and  having  no  bearing  on  the  point  at 
issue.  The  theorist,  who  should  interrupt  the  moral  train- 
ing of  youth  with  his  doubts  abo\it  the  freedom  of  the  will ; 
the  idealist,  who  would  seek  to  stop  the  labors  of  the  me- 
chanic by  instructing  him  about  the  non-existence  of  mat- 
ter ;  the  metaphysician,  who  would  impede  the  geologist  in 
his  survey  of  the  earth,  and  investigation  of  its  early  his- 
tory, by  speculations  about  the  connexion  between  cause 
and  effect,  or  by  a  calculation  of  chances,  respecting  the 
forms  that  might  be  created  by  a  fortuitous  concourse  of 
atoms  in  an  infinite  series  of  years, —  these  persons,  we 
say,  would  not  act  more  absurdly  and  inconsistently,  than 
does  the   skeptical  philosopher,  who  endeavors  to   invali- 


F» 


I 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  195 

date  the  argument  from  design  for  the  being  of  a  God,  by 
his  cobweb  theories  and  fantastical  abstractions.  Such 
views  and  reasonings  as  he  proposes,  undoubtedly  have 
their  use,  but  their  place  is  strictly  limited  to  the  domain  of 
pure  speculation.  If  carried  beyond  this  limit,  if  applied 
to  prove  or  disprove  particular  affirmations  respecting  con- 
crete existences,  their  futility  may  be  at  once  manifested  by 
showing  their  comprehensiveness.  From  their  general  na- 
ture, if  valid  in  one  case,  they  are  so  in  all  ;  they  sap  the 
foundations  of  every  science  ;  they  take  away  all  trust  in 
our  cognitive  faculties ;  they  render  exertion  needless,  and 
life  a  dream.  Such  sweeping  skepticism  destroys  itself.  It 
is  finely  remarked  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  that  "  what- 
ever attacks  every  principle  of  belief  can  destroy  none. 
When  the  skeptic  boasts  of  having  involved  the  results  of 
experience  and  the  elements  of  geometry  in  the  same  ruin 
with  the  doctrines  of  religion  and  the  principles  of  philoso- 
phy, he  may  be  answered,  that  no  dogmatist  ever  claimed 
more  than  the  same  degree  of  certainty  for  these  various 
convictions  and  opinions  ;  and  that  his  skepticism,  there- 
fore, leaves  them  in  the  relative  condition  in  which  it  found 
them." 

One  remark  is  necessary,  before  we  go  on  to  show  the 
perfect  similarity  between  the  reasoning  of  the  theist, 
and  that  which  is  employed  in  all  the  inductive  sciences. 
Though  the  proofs  are  the  same  in  kind,  they  are  very 
different  in  degree.  In  many  departments  of  physics,  the 
inquirer  may  theorize  more  rapidly  than  the  facts  will  war- 
rant ;  but  the  objection  to  his  theories  does  not  lie  against 
his  mode  of  procedure,  or  the  particular  organon  of  inves- 
tigation which  he  has  adopted,  but  against  his  limited  obser- 
vation. The  reasoning  which  convinces  a  scientific  man  of 
his  error,  is  the  same  in  kind  with  that  which  led  him  into 
it.     The  geologist,  for  instance,  rears  by  hypothesis  a  wide 


196  paley:    the  argument 

structure  upon  a  few  facts.  Farther  investigations  may 
induce  him  to  abandon  the  theory,  but  he  forms  a  new 
one  on  the  same  general  principles.  The  chemist  may 
be  mistaken,  when  he  reasons  from  a  few  data^  while  the 
mode  of  reasoning  is  unimpeachable.  Now  the  proofs 
of  design,  which  form  the  basis  of  the  theologian's  argu- 
ment, are  numerous  beyond  calculation.  They  are  dif- 
fused everywhere,  above,  around,  and  within  us.  They 
are  not  drawn  from  a  few  scratches  on  mountains  of  rock, 
or  from  fossil  remains  here  and  there  dug  up  from  the 
earth,  and  put  together  with  slow  toil,  so  that  their  history 
may  be  read.  They  do  not  rest  on  a  few  experiments 
carefully  devised  and  with  difficulty  repeated.  The  study 
of  years  is  not  required,  before  their  import  can  be  made 
known  to  a  ^e\w^  while  the  bulk  of  mankind  must  remain 
ignorant  of  the  doctrine,  or  receive  it  on  trust.  These  are 
difficulties,  with  which  the  geologist,  the  chemist,  the  astron- 
omer must  contend.  But  the  marks  of  contrivance,  that 
form  the  language  in  which  the  sublime  dogma  of  God's 
existence  is  written,  fill  the  earth  and  skies,  and  are  open 
alike  to  the  most  elevated  and  the  meanest  capacity.  They 
are  equally  obvious  in  the  structure  of  every  blade  of  grass, 
and  in  the  mechanism  of  the  heavens.  They  exist  alike  in 
the  object  perceived,  and  in  the  percipient  mind;  in  the 
hand  that  fashions,  the  ear  that  hears,  and  the  lungs  that 
breathe.  They  are  found  in  the  bones  of  extinct  races, 
and  in  the  habits  of  all  living  things ;  in  the  skeleton  of  the 
mammoth,  and  in  the  instinct  which  teaches  the  bee  to 
frame  its  wonderful  cell,  and  guides  the  waterfowl  to  its 
nest.  The  atmosphere,  that  wraps  the  earth  in  a  garment, 
testifies  his  presence  ;  and  the  sun  bears  witness  to  him,  who 
lighted  up  its  fires.  "  There  is  no  speech  nor  language, 
where  their  voice  is  not   heard.     Their  line    is   gone    out 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  197 

through  all  the  earth,   and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the 
world." 

And  it  is  no  doubtful  inference,  no  long  and  tedious  pro- 
cess of  reasoning,  which  connects  all  these  facts  with  the 
being  of  a  God,  The  conclusion  is  so  obvious,  the  connex- 
ion so  close  and  striking,  that  we  believe  none  but  a  mind 
wilfully  obtuse,  or  one  that  had  been  perverted  by  logical 
subtilties  and  metaphysical  abstractions,  ever  failed  to  re- 
ceive it  with  perfect  trust  at  the  first  view.  The  simple 
doctrine  is,  that  a  great  number  of  agents  being  found  to 
work  together  by  a  complex  and  intricate,  yet  orderly  pro- 
cess, towards  the  attainment  of  some  end,  there  must  exist 
an  intelligent  and  active  being,  who  had  this  end  in  view, 
and  who  made  this  disposition  of  the  agents  as  means  for 
its  accomplishment.  Orderly  cooperation  implies  intelligent 
and  directing  power.  And  the  order  may  be  so  perfect, 
and  the  number  of  cooperating  agents  so  great,  that  this 
implication  becomes  what  is  called  in  common  discourse, 
not  in  logic,  absolute  certainty.  When  the  material  frame 
of  a  living  thing  is  so  organized  and  put  together,  that  a 
great  number  of  motions  and  effects  can  be  produced  with 
ease  and  within  a  small  compass,  all  of  them  being  sub- 
servient to  the  preservation  of  the  animal's  existence  and 
closely  adapted  to  its  mode  of  life,  the  inference  that  this 
animal  was  fashioned  by  an  intelligent  Creator  is  irresistible. 
When  such  instances  of  joint  agency  and  adaptation  are 
found  to  be  not  few  in  number,  and  scattered,  as  it  were, 
by  chance  amidst  an  infinite  number  of  conflicting  powers, 
disorderly  arrangements,  and  nugatory  results,  but  manifes- 
tations of  a  great  law  that  pervades  all  nature,  uniformity 
being  the  general  rule,  and  the  varieties  being  strictly  suited 
to  the  different  circumstances,  and  all  the  parts,  by  a  visible 
connexion,  tending  towards  and  effecting  one  general  re- 
sult, —  namely,  the  happiness  of  animal  and  intelligent  life, 
17* 


198 


paley:  the  argument 


—  then  the  conclusion,  that  the  whole  framework  of  the 
universe  was  designed  and  executed  by  one  Being  of  sur- 
passing wisdom  and  goodness,  comes  home  to  the  mind  with 
a  force  and  clearness,  which  no  prejudice  can  reject  and  no 
sophistry  evade. 

We  have  stated  the  argument  in  very  guarded,  and 
therefore  not  very  perspicuous  language,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  common  objection  to  Paley's  statement  of  it,  by  which 
he  is  charged  with  assuming  the  only  point  at  issue ;  though, 
by  the  bye,  this  objection  is  founded  only  on  a  pitiful  quib- 
bling with  words.  To  illustrate  the  point  of  the  reasoning, 
we  translate  from  the  French  an  anecdote,  that  may  be 
found  copied  into  the  notes  to  Dugald  Stewart's  "  Disserta- 
tion on  the  Progress  of  Philosophy." 

"  Among  the  associates  of  the  Baron  d'Holbach,  Diderot  one 
day  proposed  that  they  should  select  an  advocate  to  plead  the 
cause  of  the  Deity,  and  the  Abbe  Galiani  was  chosen.  He  took 
his  seat,  and  commenced  as  follows. 

"  '  One  day  at  Naples,  a  certain  person  in  our  presence  put  six 
dice  into  a  dice-box,  and  oifered  a  wager  that  he  would  throw 
sizes  with  the  whole  set.  I  said,  that  the  chance  was  possible. 
He  threw  the  dice  in  this  way  twice  in  succession ;  and  I  still  ob- 
,  served,  that  possibly  he  had  succeeded  by  chance.  He  put  back 
/  the  dice  into  the  box  for  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  time,  and  inva- 
riably threw  sizes  with  the  whole  set.  '*  By  the  blood  of  Bacchus, ^^ 
I  exclaimed,  "  the  dice  are  loaded ;  "  and  so  they  were. 

"  '  Philosophers,  when  I  look  at  the  order  of  Nature  that  is 
constantly  reproduced,  its  fixed  laws,  its  successive  changes  inva- 
riably producing  the  same  effect;  when  I  consider,  that  there  is 
but  one  chance  which  can  preserve  the  universe  in  the  state  in 
which  we  now  see  it,  and  that  this  always  happens,  in  spite  of  a 
hundred  million  of  other  possible  chances  of  perturbation  and  de- 
struction, I  cry  out,  '  Surely  Nature'' s  dice  are  also  loaded.''  " 

The  argument  is  here  so  plain  and  forcible,  and  affords 
so  little  room  for  sophistry  and  cavilling,  that  we  cannot 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  199 

conceive  of  a  person  failing  to  be  convinced  by  it,  though 
he  may  wish  to  show  his  ingenuity  in  commenting  upon  it, 
as  a  piece  of  reasoning.     It  is  true,  that  this  mode  of  proof 
is   not,  strictly  speaking,  a   demonstration.     "  The   conclu- 
sion is  not  apodictical,"  says   Kant ;  and  this  is  the  chief 
fault,  which  he  has  to  urge  against  the  argument  a  posteri- 
ori.    But  what   does  such  an   objection  amount  to  ?     Sup- 
pose  that,  after  Franklin  had  proved  the  presence  of  elec- 
tricity in  a  thunder-cloud,  by  drawing  the  fluid  to  the  earth, 
charging  a  Leyden  jar  with  it,  and  causing   it  to  manifest 
all  the  common  electrical  phenomena,  a  by-stander  should 
still  object   in  this  wise   to   his  doctrine  and  proof ;  "  You  ( 
are  judging  of  the  presence  of  a  thing  only  from  its  effects  ;  f 
the  truth  of  the  theory  opposed  to  yours  is  still  conceivable ;  I 
your  facts  and  arguments  do  not  constitute  a  chain  of  rea-  i 
soning,  like  that  which   supports  a   proposition  in   Euclid." 
The  plain  answer  would   be,  that  the  affirmation  is  support- 
ed by  the  only  evidence,  of  which,  in  the  nature  of  things,  . 
it  is  susceptible.     A  fact  can  be  proved  only  by  other  facts.  I 
That  which  is  not  perceptible  to  the   senses,  can  be  made  / 
known  only  through  its  effects.     And   though  the   proof  be  | 
not  a  demonstration,  to  reject  it  would  be  quite  as  strong  an; 
indication  of  folly  or  insanity,  as  to  deny  the  truth  of  any 
theorem  in  geometry. 

Modern  discoveries  in  geology  afford  many  striking  illus- 
trations of  our  position,  that  the  common  argument  for  the 
being  of  a  God  is  the  same  in  character  with  the  reasoning 
that  is  constantly  used  in  the  inductive  sciences.  Lord 
Brougham  has  described  these  points  of  coincidence  with 
so  much  force  and  clearness,  that  we  borrow  his  language, 
though  the  passage  is  somewhat  long  for  quotation. 

"  That  this  branch  of  scientific  inquiry  is  singularly  attractive, 
all  will  allow.  Nor  will  any  one  dispute  that  its  cultivation  de- 
mands great  knowledge  and  skill.     But  this  is  not  our  chief  pur- 


200  paley:  the  argument 

pose  in  referring  to  it.  There  can  be  as  little  doubt  that  the  in- 
vestigation, in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term,  forms  a  branch  of 
physical  science,  and  that  this  branch  sprang  legitimately  from 
the  grand  root  of  the  whole,  —  induction  ;  in  a  word,  that  the 
process  of  reasoning  employed  to  investigate,  the  kind  of  evidence 
used  to  demonstrate,  its  truths,  is  the  modern  analysis  or  induction 
taught  by  Bacon  and  practised  by  Newton.  Now  wherein,  with 
reference  to  its  nature  and  foundations,  does  it  vary  from  the  in- 
quiries and  illustrations  of  Natural  Theology?  When  from  exam- 
ining a  few  bones,  or  it  may  be  a  single  fragment  of  a  bone,  we 
infer  that,  in  the  wilds  where  we  found  it,  there  lived  and  ranged, 
some  thousands  of  years  ago,  an  animal  wholly  different  from  any 
we  ever  saw,  and  from  any  of  which  any  account,  any  tradition, 
written  or  oral,  has  reached  us,  nay,  from  any  that  ever  was  seen 
by  any  person  of  whose  existence  we  ever  heard,  we  assuredly 
are  led  to  this  remote  conclusion,  by  a  strict  and  rigorous  process 
of  reasoning ;  but  as  certainly  we  come  through  that  process  to 
the  knowledge  and  belief  of  things  unseen,  both  of  us  and  of  all 
men,  — things  respecting  which  we  have  not,  and  cannot  have,  a 
single  particle  of  evidence,  either  by  sense  or  by  testimony.  Yet 
we  harbour  no  doubt  of  the  fact;  we  go  further,  and  not  only  im- 
plicitly believe  the  existence  of  this  creature,  for  which  we  are 
forced  to  invent  a  name,  but  clothe  it  with  attributes,  till,  reason- 
ing step  by  step,  we  come  at  so  accurate  a  notion  of  its  forms  and 
habits,  that  we  can  represent  the  one,  and  describe  the  other,  with 
unerring  accuracy ;  picturing  to  ourselves  how  it  looked,  what  it 
fed  on,  and  how  it  continued  its  kind. 

"Now,  the  question  is  this;  What  perceivable  difference  is 
there  between  the  kind  of  investigations  we  have  just  been  consid- 
ering, and  those  of  Natural  Theology,  —  except,  indeed,  that  the 
latter  are  far  more  sublime  in  themselves,  and  incomparably  more 
interesting  to  us  ?  Where  is  the  logical  precision  of  the  arrange- 
ment, which  would  draw  a  broad  line  of  demarkation  between  the 
two  speculations,  giving  to  the  one  the  name  and  the  rank  of  a  sci- 
ence, and  refusing  it  to  the  other,  and  affirming  that  the  one  rest- 
ed upon  induction,  but  not  the  other  ?  We  have,  it  is  true,  no  ex- 
perience directly  of  that  Great  Being's  existence,  in  whom  we 
believe  as  our  Creator ;  nor  have  we  the  testimony  of  any  man 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  201 

relating  such  experience  of  his  own.  But  so,  neither  we,  nor  any 
witnesses  in  any  age,  have  ever  seen  those  works  of  that  Being, 
the  lost  animals  that  once  peopled  the  earth  ;  and  yet  the  lights  of 
inductive  science  have  conducted  us  to  a  full  knowledge  of  their 
nature,  as  well  as  a  perfect  belief  in  their  existence.  Without  any 
evidence  from  our  senses,  or  from  the  testimony  of  eyewitnesses, 
we  believe  in  the  existence  and  qualities  of  those  animals,  because 
we  infer  by  the  induction  of  facts  that  they  once  lived,  and  were 
endowed  with  a  certain  nature.  This  is  called  a  doctrine  of  in- 
ductive philosophy.  Is  it  less  a  doctrine  of  the  same  philosophy, 
that  the  eye  could  not  have  been  made  without  a  knowledge  of 
optics,  and,  as  it  could  not  make  itself,  and  as  no  human  artist, 
though  possessed  of  the  knowledge,  has  the  skill  and  power  to 
fashion  it  by  his  handy-work,  that  there  must  exist  some  being  of 
knowledge,  skill,  and  power  superior  to  our  own,  and  sufficient  to 
create  it  ?  "  —  pp.  49-51. 

It  would  be  difficult,  indeed,  in  any  of  the  physical  sci- 
ences, wherein  we  advance  from  one  truth  to  another,  to 
find  a  transition  more  gradual,  a  step  in  the  argument  more 
plain  and  easy,  than  that  by  which  we  proceed  in  the  argu- 
ment from  design.  A  certain  arrangement  of  materials,  by 
which  a  certain  effect  is  produced,  is  at  once  recognised  by 
us  as  the  production  of  intelligence,  and  the  end  is  perceiv- 
ed to  be  an  intentional  one.  In  some  instances,  the  intelli- 
gence and  design  are  at  once  referred  to  man,  the  work 
being  a  human  invention.  In  others,  knowing  that  the  ma- 
chine surpasses  human  power  and  skill,  we  are  compelled 
to  refer  it  to  a  higher  intelligence,  to  an  adequate  and  de- 
signing Cause.  We  say,  that  the  nature  of  different  things 
could  not  of  itself,  through  so  many  cooperating  means, 
produce  determinate  ends,  unless  these  means  had  been 
chosen  and  arranged  for  this  very  purpose,  through  a  pre- 
conceived plan  by  a  directing  and  intelligent  agent.  If  we 
were  shown  for  the  first  time  a  complex  piece  of  machin- 
ery, a  power-loom  or  a  steam   engine,  we  should  not  hesi- 


202  PALEY  :     THE    ARGUMENT 

tate  a  moment  in  ascribing  it  to  human  contrivance.  Can 
we  deny,  then,  that  the  far  more  skilful  piece  of  mechanism, 
the  human  hand,  with  all  its  apparatus  of  joints,  tendons, 
arteries,  and  skin,  is  equally  a  product  of  intelligence  and 
design,  simply  because  it  is  known,  that  the  skill  of  man 
could  not  have  fashioned  it,  and  therefore  we  are  obliged  to 
ascribe  the  wisdom  and  intention  to  a  being  of  a  higher  or- 
der ?  The  different  age  of  the  two  inventions  makes  no 
important  distinction  between  the  cases.  Suppose  that  the 
power-loom  or  steam-engine,  unknown  in  modern  days,  had 
been  dug  out  of  the  rocks,  like  the  fossils  of  an  elder 
world.  Would  not  its  discovery  afford  irrefragable  evidence, 
that  men,  or  a  race  of  beings  of  skill  and  power  like  those 
of  men,  existed  in  the  days  when  those  rocks  were  formed, 
though  no  bones  or  other  direct  traces  of  their  existence 
could  be  found  .?  Yet  the  skeletons  of  Ichthyosauri  and 
Megatheria  have  actually  been  cut  out  of  the  rocks,  and 
their  structure  affords  evidence  of  creative  wisdom  and 
forethought  a  hundredfold  greater  than  what  is  given  by  the 
engines  in  question.  Thus,  even  if  the  present  world  were 
a  blank  in  respect  to  the  proofs  of  design,  if  we  were 
thrown  back  upon  geological  researches  for  all  the  traces 
of  God's  power,  still  the  great  truth  of  his  being  would  be 
as  indisputably  established  by  those  researches,  as  any  other 
doctrine  in  the  whole  science.  It  would  be  established  by 
the  same  species  of  evidence,  the  same  kind  of  reasoning, 
as  that  through  which  the  Cuviers,  the  Bucklands,  and  the 
Lyells  have  shown  what  was  the  condition  of  the  eanh  ages 
ago,  when  the  ocean  rolled  over  the  summits  of  the  high- 
est mountains,  and  what  is  now  the  bottom  of  the  sea  was 
dry  land. 

But  it  is  objected  to  our  argument,  that,  for  aught  we 
know,  this  vast  machine  of  the  universe,  which  is  continu- 
ally propagating  and  renewing  itself,  had  no  beginning,  but 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF   A    GOD.  203 

has  existed  from  all  eternity  in  an  infinite  series  of  changes, 
decay,  and  restoration.  Apply  the  corresponding  objection 
to  the  whole  doctrine  of  geology.  Tell  the  student  of  that 
science,  that  possibly  the  marine  shells,  found  embedded  in 
stone  on  the  tops  of  the  Alleghanies  and  the  Alps,  have 
been  for  ever  in  their  present  situation,  and  never  grew  be- 
neath the  ocean  ;  that  the  fossil  skeletons  are  equally  eter- 
nal with  the  rocks ;  that  there  is  no  distinction,  in  respect 
to  age,  between  organic  and  inorganic  things ;  that  the 
branches  and  leaves  of  palm  trees  and  other  tropical  plants, 
the  perfect  shape  of  which  is  now  moulded  in  fossil  coal, 
always  existed  in  that  coal,  and  never  waved  beneath  a 
burning  sun  ;  and  that  the  marks  of  igneous  origin  and  al- 
luvial deposit  in  the  various  classes  of  rocks  are  all  decep- 
tive, mere  freaks  in  the  casual  disposition  of  brute  matter, 
which  tell  no  story  about  the  antecedent  conditions  of  the 
earth's  surface.  It  is  certainly  impossible  for  the  geologist 
to  get  rid  of  this  objection  by  a  direct  answer,  or  by  reason- 
ing of  the  same  kind.  He  could  only  say,  that  the  suppo- 
sition of  his  antagonist  was  certainly  a  possible  one,  though 
to  feign  actual  belief  of  it  would  outrage  all  common  sense ; 
that  it  was  either  proposed  in  the  mere  spirit  of  cavilling,  to 
show  the  ingenuity  of  the  disputant,  or  else,  that  the  author 
of  it  was  a  different  being  from  other  men,  and  that  it  was 
useless  to  argue  with  him.  We  doubt,  whether  any  writer 
of  reputation  on  this  science  ever  condescended  to  notice 
this  hypothesis  ;  certainly  it  would  be  idle  to  set  himself  se- 
riously at  work  to  disprove  it.  Perhaps  it  would  be  well 
for  writers  on  Natural  Theology  to  imitate  this  reserve. 
For  which  is  the  more  credible  supposition  ;  that  what  ap- 
pear like  fossil  bones  and  shells  never  belonged  to  living 
animals,  but  formed  originally  part  of  the  rock  and  earth, 
in  which  they  are  now  found  imbedded  ;  or  that  this  won- 
derful framework  and  garniture  of  the  heavens,  this  system 


204  PALEY :     THE    ARGUMENT 

of  revolving  worlds,  whose  motions  and  inequalities  are  so 
wonderfully  balanced  and  adjusted,  all  subject  to  one  law, 
exerting  mutual  influence  but  never  interfering,  with  the 
appendage  of  minor  orbs,  all  working  harmoniously  with 
the  great  scheme,  —  that  this  stupendous  machine,  we  say, 
was  not  contrived  and  set  in  motion,  for  the  first  time,  at  a 
definite  period,  was  never  designed  at  all,  but  has  gone  on 
doing  its  work  from  everlasting  ? 

We  have  thus  far  granted  to  the  atheist  more  than  was 
necessary,  by  supposing  that  the  two  adverse  hypotheses, 
which  we  have  considered,  were  entirely  parallel.  But,  in 
truth,  they  are  not  so,  for  the  one  relating  to  the  eternity  of 
the  universe,  as  a  whole,  is,  if  possible,  still  more  absurd, 
than  that  which  confounds  the  original  and  the  secondary 
formations  on  the  surface  of  the  earth.  In  the  former  case, 
we  can  ofier  a  direct  refutation  of  the  theory,  while  in  the 
latter,  as  we  have  seen,  the  geologist  can  only  refer  to  the 
intrinsic  balance  of  probability  against  the  hypothesis,  which 
is  so  great,  that  a  man  of  sound  reason  cannot  entertain  it 
for  a  moment.  Nothing  can  be  clearer  than  this,  that,  if 
the  universe  has  existed  from  all  eternity,  it  must  continue 
to  exist  for  an  eternity  to  come.  For,  by  the  hypothesis, 
there  can  be  no  cause  ah  extra  of  dissolution,  and  any  in- 
herent principles  of  decay  and  ruin  must  have  manifested 
themselves  during  an  infinite  series  of  years.  If  they  have 
not  done  so  in  the  infinite  duration  that  is  past,  it  is  a  proof 
that  they  do  not  exist,  and  there  are  none  to  operate  in  all 
future  time.  In  technical  phrase,  what  is  infinite  a  parte 
ante,  must  also  be  infinite  a  parte  post.  But  the  absurdity 
of  attributing  an  infinite  continuance  to  the  totality  of  things 
is  at  once  manifest.  All  living  things  are  subject  to  death 
as  individuals,  and  even  their  propagation  and  lasting  ex- 
istence as  races  is  wholly  contingent  and  uncertain.  No 
genus  or  species,  bears  the  marks  of  necessary  continuance. 


FOR    THE    BEING    OF    A    GOD.  205 

and  it  is  absurd  to  speak  of  the  eternal  existence,  either 
way,  of  an  object,  the  life  of  which  is  not  insured  in  the 
nature  of  things.  Or,  to  use  an  argument  that  is  level  to 
the  comprehension  of  all,  we  may  refer  to  the  recent  dis- 
covery of  astronomers,  that  the  whole  solar  system  is  per- 
vaded by  an  ether,  the  resistance  of  which  must  cause 
eventually  the  destruction  of  that  system.  Of  course,  the 
machine,  v/hh  such  a  disturbing  cause  in  it,  could  not  have 
existed  through  an  infinite  antecedent  time. 

There  is  another  hypothesis  of  the  atheist,  of  which  it 
may  be  proper  to  take  some  notice,  although  the  absurdities 
into  which  they  have  themselves  been  driven  in  the  attempt 
to  develope  and  apply  it,  constitute  a  sufficient  refutation 
of  the  whole  doctrine.  It  is,  that  the  inherent  powers  of 
matter  have  sufficed,  during  the  lapse  of  ages,  to  produce 
all  the  organized  forms  and  existences,  that  now  people  the 
earth.  Some  of  the  French  materialists  have  bestowed 
great  pains  on  the  exhibition  and  defence  of  this  monstrous 
theory,  —  the  more  willingly,  because  it  offers  wide  scope 
for  a  lively  fancy  and  a  weak  judgment ;  and  even  Buffon 
has  partially  lent  them  the  authority  of  his  great  name.  It 
may  seem  idle  to  argue  seriously  against  the  hypothesis, 
that  all  the  higher  orders  of  animal  life,  even  man  himself, 
have  been  successively  produced  and  elaborated,  as  it  were, 
out  of  reptiles,  that  were  first  spontaneously  generated  from 
the  slime  of  the  sea.  Yet,  admitting,  what  we  are  entitled 
to  claim,  that  the  world,  as  it  now  exists,  had  a  beginning  in 
time,  those  who  now  deny  the  existence  of  one  intelligent 
Creator  are  driven,  perforce,  by  the  argument  a  posteriori 
to  this  extravagant  supposition.  A  more  complete  reductio 
ad  ahsurdum  could  hardly  follow,  even  from  the  proof 
which  claims  exclusively  the  title  of  a  demonstration.  But 
if  the  theory  in  respect  to  the  origin  of  animal  life  is  toa 
wild  and  ridiculous  to  merit  a  serious  confutation,  the 
18 


206  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

explanation,  that  it  proffers,  of  the  way  in  which  the  inani- 
mate portions  of  the  universe  were  fitly  arranged  without 
the  aid  of  a  designing  Cause,  deserves  a  passing  remark. 
The  force  of  gravity  is,  of  course,  the  great  agent  through 
which,  it  is  supposed,  this  vast  machinery  of  worlds  was 
originally  put  together.  The  various  forms  in  which  this 
force  now  manifests  itself,  —  through  the  winds  and  tides, 
for  instance,  —  often  producing  curious  and  regular  effects, 
seemingly  of  a  casual  and  undesigned  origin,  lend  a  shade 
of  probability  to  the  theory.  That  gravitation,  which  now 
appears  only  as  a  sustaining  power,  should  be  considered 
also  as  a  creative  one,  is  a  violent  supposition,  that  few  will 
be  inclined  to  entertain  ;  but  it  is  not  the  only  difficuly  in 
the  hypothesis. 

The  work  of  creation  cannot  be  explained  through  means 
and  agents,  which  are  in  themselves  a  part  of  that  creation. 
We  have  no  right  to  suppose,  that  the  power  which  belongs 
to  a  system  or  a  machine,  when  already  constructed  and 
in  action,  is  inherent  in  the  parts  or  constituent  elements  of 
that  system,  and  would  manifest  itself  before  those  parts 
were  fashioned  or  arranged.  Still  further,  when  that  which 
is  called  a  power ^  or  a  quality^  is  found  to  be  nothing  but  a 
law  of  action,  or  the  mode  in  which  the  machine  works,  it 
is  contradictory  and  absurd  to  maintain,  that  it  was  the 
agent  through  which  the  action  commenced.  Let  us  grant, 
for  a  moment,  the  eternal  existence  of  brute  and  inorganic 
matter.  The  postulate  of  the  atheist,  that  gravity  is  an  in- 
herent quality  of  that  matter,  is  contradictory,  if  not  wholly 
unmeaning.  It  is  as  if  we  should  say,  that  regular  action  is 
an  inherent  property  of  wheels,  springs,  and  weights,  how- 
ever placed,  because,  when  fashioned  into  a  clock,  these 
parts  work  regularly  upon  each  other.  We  may  assume, 
that  impenetrability  is  an  inherent  quality  of  matter,  be- 
cause it  is  a  necessary  part  of  our  conception  of  brute  sub- 


FOR   THE    BEING    OF    A   GOD.  207 

stance.  But  gravitation  is  no  such  necessary  element. 
The  term  is  nothing  but  a  convenient  generalization  of 
many  facts.  We  say,  that  a  stone  falls  to  the  ground,  and 
the  earth  revolves  round  the  sun,  both  by  the  force  of 
gravity,  only  because  the  velocities  and  distances  of  the 
two  movements  bear  a  fixed  ratio  to  each  other.  That  this 
similarity  of  action  is  caused  by  some  occult  quality  com- 
mon to  the  two  bodies,  a  quality  of  which  we  have  no  ex- 
perience, and  which  it  is  impossible  to  detect,  is  a  wholly 
gratuitous  supposition,  even  when  the  bodies  are  connected 
as  parts  of  one  system.  But  to  carry  this  guesswork  still 
further,  to  suppose  that  this  imaginary  quality  in  the  parts 
of  a  machine  is  a  property  also  of  the  inorganic  substance, 
from  which  those  parts  are  fabricated,  is  to  turn  theory  into 
burlesque.  If  imagination  is  allowed  to  wander  in  this 
manner  in  forming  hypotheses,  it  is  unnecessary  to  confine 
ourselves  to  such  a  comparatively  inefficient  agent  as  gravi- 
tation. We  may  as  well  suppose,  that  every  atom  of  mat- 
ter is  animated  by  a  free  and  intelligent  spirit,  and  that  the 
unanimity  of  these  principles  regulates  the  action  of  the 
engine,  just  as  proper  concert  between  them  caused  its 
fabrication.  Such  a  theory  would  be  quite  as  plausible,  as 
the  one  which  considers  gravity  as  a  quality  inherent  in 
matter,  to  which,  indeed,  it  is  perfectly  similar  in  character. 
Neither  is  susceptible  of  direct  proof,  or  of  direct  refuta- 
tion.    They  are  purely  imaginary.- 

Our  position  is,  that  in  respect  to  the  condition  of  matter 
considered  entirely  apart  from  mind,  but  three  hypotheses 
are  possible.  First,  that  it  is  dead,  formless,  and  motion- 
less, and  that  the  slightest  change  in  its  state  is  incon- 
ceivable. No  winds  agitate  the  surface  of  a  chaotic  ocean, 
no  tides  heave  its  waters,  no  waves  break  upon  its  silent 
shores.  Secondly,  that  it  is  so  moulded  and  arranged, 
that  a  foreign  force  constantly  applied  in  one  or  a  few  di- 


208  PALEY  :    THE    ARGUMENT 

rections,  answering  to  what  we  call  the  general  laws  of 
nature,  suffices  to  produce  a  great  variety  of  effects  ;  just 
as  the  single  downward  tendency  of  a  weight  causes  a  very 
complex  movement  in  the  interior  of  a  clock,  and  gives 
origin  to  all  the  different  appearances  on  its  face.  Third- 
ly, that  what  are  called  secondary  causes  are  really  no 
causes  at  all,  but  only  mark  the  occasions  on  which  events 
and  changes  take  place,  all  of  which  are  brought  about  by 
the  direct  agency  of  a  power,  that  is  wholly  foreign  to  this 
world.  The  second  and  third  suppositions  are  equally  con- 
sistent with  the  doctrine  of  the  being  of  a  God,  the  only 
difference  between  them  relating  to  the  manner  in  which 
his  influence  is  exerted.  In  both  these  theories,  he  is 
represented  not  only  as  the  creating,  but  the  sustaining, 
power  of  the  universe.  The  last  of  the  three  is  certainly 
the  most  philosophical  opinion,  for  it  avoids  the  difficulty  of 
attributing  efficient  causation  to  matter,  where  it  can  never 
be  perceived,  and  of  believing  from  the  immediate  se- 
quence in  time  of  two  events,  that  there  is  a  necessary  con- 
nexion between  them.  But  the  second  hypothesis  is  the 
more  common  one,  and  is  equally  favorable  to  the  great 
doctrine,  that  the  Deity  is  not  only  constantly  present  in 
all  his  works,  but  actuates  and  sustains  them  through 
his  unceasing  power.  The  succession  of  events  is  never 
stopped  ;  the  great  clock  of  the  universe  never  runs  down. 
To  deny  the  existence  of  a  God  is  to  fall  back  upon  the 
first  hypothesis,  according  to  which  creation  and  change 
are  alike  impossible,  and  the  actual  nature  and  appearance 
of  things  is  an  inexplicable  dream. 

Human  ^perience,  arguing  from  a  limited  number  of 
effects,  can  only  establish  the  existence  of  a  Cause  propor- 
tionate to  them.  The  infinite  power  and  wisdom  of  the 
Deity  cannot  be  inferred  directly  from  the  finite  evidences, 
which  alone  are  subject  to  our  observation.     But  this  defect 


FOR   THE    BEING    OP   A    GOD.  209 

in  the  argument  a  posteriori^  though  much  insisted  upon, 
is  really  of  little  consequence.  The  proof  is  sufficient  for 
the  great  doctrine  of  his  existence  as  an  independent  and 
primal  cause,  and  with  attributes  beyond  the  power  of  hu- 
man intellect  to  comprehend.  The  argument  from  the 
effect  cannot  stop  short  of  the  primitive  cause.  This  point 
being  established,  we  may  safely  reason  from  it  in  the  in- 
verse order  of  our  former  course,  and  thus  supply  the  de- 
ficiency by  a  strict  and  unexceptionable  argument  a  priori. 
That  is,  —  the  conception  of  the  Deity  and  the  reality  of 
his  existence,  to  which  we  rise  from  evidence  afforded  by 
his  works,  supply  the  required  data  for  reasoning  of  the 
opposite  character,  and  enable  us  to  demonstrate  his  in- 
finite goodness,  wisdom,  and  power.  Each  of  these  attri- 
butes may  be  easily  deduced  from  the  doctrine  of  his  inde- 
pendent nature,  and  primary,  or  uncaused  existence.  We 
have  not  room  to  develope  the  proof,  but  refer  the  curious 
reader  to  Clarke's  treatise,  the  portion  of  which  relating  to 
the  Attributes  is  unexceptionable. 

We  had  purposed  to  illustrate  still  further  the  positions, 
that  the  argument  from  design  is  perfectly  analogous  to  the 
reasoning  employed  in  all  the  inductive  sciences,  and  that 
the  conclusion  to  which  it  leads  us  cannot  be  rejected, 
without  destroying  at  the  same  time  the  basis  of  all  human 
knowledge.  The  illustrations  which  we  have  given  are 
chiefly  drawn  from  geology,  not  because  they  are  more  nu- 
merous and  complete  in  that  science  than  in  any  other,  but 
because  they  are  more  obvious  and  striking,  and  require 
little  collateral  information  in  order  to  b^  fully  understood. 
In  astronomy,  and  that  part  of  chemistry  relating  to  impon- 
derable agents,  in  the  investigations  respecting  the  history 
and  condition  of  ancient  tribes,  and  the  physical  history  of 
the  human  race,  or  the  science  which  is  now  called  anthro- 
pology^ matter  enough  might  be  found  to  elucidate  and 
18* 


210  PALEY  :  THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  A  GOD. 

sustain  our  conclusion.  But  we  can  only  allude  to  these 
sources,  and  leave  to  others  the  task  of  drawing  from  them 
additional  confirmation  of  the  truth,  which  we  have  en- 
deavored to  establish.  Enough  has  been  said  to  answer 
our  original  purpose,  and  to  vindicate  the  judgment  of  Pa- 
ley  in  selecting  his  argument,  and  avoiding  all  impertinent 
and  extraneous  matter.  His  object  was  merely  to  pre- 
sent in  the  smallest  compass  an  argument,  level  to  the 
comprehension  of  all,  and  perfectly  conclusive,  in  favor  of 
the  great  truths  of  natural  theology.  The  metaphysical 
subtilties,  with  which  the  argument  had  been  encumbered, 
were  avoided  by  him,  not  more  from  a  natural  distaste 
for  such  speculations,  than  from  a  conviction  that  they 
were  out  of  his  path,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  point 
at  issue.  He  saw  clearly  the  nature  of  the  inquiry,  and 
the  place  which  it  held  relatively  to  other  exercises  of  the 
human  mind.  He  pursued  it,  not  as  a  theorist,  but  as  a 
searcher  after  truth ;  not  as  a  logician,  nor  an  anato- 
mist, nor  a  historian,  but  with  the  single  purpose  of  impart- 
ing to  others  the  full  conviction,  that  was  present  to  his 
own  understanding.  And  the  consequence  has  been  what 
we  noticed  in  the  commencement  of  our  remarks  ;  that, 
while  metaphysicians  have  exposed  his  errors  and  quibbled 
upon  his  reasoning,  and  men  of  the  highest  scientific  repu- 
tation, with  all  the  assistance  furnished  by  recent  discove- 
ries, have  followed  upon  his  track,  his  work  as  a  whole 
has  never  been  refuted  or  superseded.  It  remains  the  chief 
text-book  on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats,  and  thousands 
are  indebted  to  it  for  a  confirmation  of  their  faith  on  mat- 
ters of  the  most  vital  importance  to  man. 


THE  UNION  OF  THEOLOGY  AND  METAPHYSICS.     211 


VI. 


SUBJECT  CONTINUED: 
THE   UNION  OF  THEOLOGY  AND  METAPHYSICS.* 

Dr.  Chalmers  was  one  of  the  persons  appointed,  under 
the  will  of  the  late  Earl  of  Bridgewater,  to  write  a  treatise 
"  On  the  Wisdom,  Power,  and  Goodness  of  God,  as  mani- 
fested in  the  Creation."  This  general  subject  being  divided 
into  eight  branches,  the  portion  of  it  allotted  to  our  author 
was  "  The  Adaptation  of  External  Nature  to  the  Moral  and 
Intellectual  Condition  of  Man."  The  work  which  Dr.  Chal- 
mers published,  in  compliance  with  this  call,  has  been  for 
some  years  before  the  public,  and  we  have  had  occasion  to 
express,  incidentally,  our  opinion  of  its  merits.  The  vol- 
umes now  before  us  contain  a  republication  of  the  Bridge- 
water  Treatise,  with  some  additional  chapters  on  the  argu- 
ment for  the  being  of  a  God,  and  on  a  few  other  subjects, 
designed  so  far  to  fill  out  the  deficiences  of  the  former 
publication,  as  to  entitle  the  entire  work  to  be  called  an  ex- 
position of  the  whole  science  of  Natural  Theology.  These 
supplementary  portions  of  the  book  are  all  that  require  pres- 
ent notice,  and  very  few  words  may  suffice  for  a  considera- 
tion of  their  merits  and  defects. 

Dr.  Chalmers  does  not  appear  qualified  in  an  eminent 
degree,  either  by  the  peculiarities  of  his  style,  or  his  habits 
of  study  and  thought,  to  become  a  scientific  writer.  With  a 

*  From  the  JYorth  American  Review,  for  April,  1842. 
On  Natural  Theology.     By  Thomas  Chalmers,  D.  D.  and  LL.  D. 
New  York.   1840. 


212  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

great  command  of  words,  considerable  power  of  amplifying 
a  subject,  and,  at  times,  of  expressing  himself  with  much 
force  and  earnestness,  he  lacks  precision  of  statement  and 
definiteness  of  views.  His  style  is  often  incorrect,  and  al- 
most always  verbose  and  tumid,  and,  amidst  a  wilderness 
of  words,  the  reader  is  sometimes  at  a  loss  how  to  find  any 
meaning  whatever.  Such  a  style  may  be  very  effective  in 
the  pulpit,  where  familiar  thoughts  are  to  be  handled,  to  be 
amplified  and  set  forth  under  every  variety  of  aspect.  The 
constant  repetitions  will  enable  the  hearer  to  comprehend 
the  general  drift  of  the  argument,  and  the  swell  and  co- 
piousness of  language  will  fasten  it  upon  his  memory.  But 
the  inaccuracy  and  vagueness  of  such  a  manner  are  serious 
objections  in  a  scientific  treatise.  One  is  often  puzzled  by 
contradictory  statements,  and  loses  sight  of  the  chief  object 
of  inquiry,  while  the  author  is  expatiating  at  great  length 
on  some  incidental  topic. 

But  these  defects  might  be  pardoned,  if  they  did  not  pro- 
ceed from  much  confusion  of  thought,  and  a  hasty  manner 
of  prosecuting  an  abstract  inquiry.  Dr.  Chalmers  elaborates 
nothing,  but  gives  out  the  first  draft  of  his  arguments  and 
speculations,  pretty  much  in  the  order  in  which  they  first 
occurred  to  him.  Consequently,  there  is  no  proportion  be- 
tween the  parts,  but  a  crude  mass  of  materials  is  presented, 
which,  if  duly  worked  over,  might  be  found  to  contain  many 
sound  remarks,  and  some  trains  of  reasoning  and  reflection, 
followed  out  with  considerable  success.  The  subject  of  his 
Bridgewater  Treatise  forms  but  a  small  fraction  of  the 
whole  science  of  Natural  Theology.  But,  desirous  of  pub- 
lishing something,  that  should  appear  to  cover  the  whole 
ground,  without  revising  or  retrenching  to  any  extent  the 
original  work,  he  annexes  to  it  a  few  introductory  chapters, 
interpolates  one  or  two  more  in  the  body  of  the  book,  and 
then  sends  it  forth  as  a  new  and  complete  treatise. 


THEOLOGY  AND  METAPHYSICS.  213 

Dr.  Chalmers  is  not  a  learned  writer  ;  at  least,  not  in  this 
department  of  science.  Of  many  important  contributions 
to  Natural  Theology,  he  makes  no  mention  whatever,  and 
thus  many  arguments  and  objections  pass  unnoticed  by  him, 
a  full  consideration  of  which  is  essential  to  any  effective 
treatment  of  the  subject  at  the  present  day.  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown  is  about  the  only  philosophical  writer,  with  whose 
works  he  appears  to  be  fully  acquainted,  though  neither  the 
general  reputation,  nor  the  completeness  of  this  author's 
speculations,  make  him  a  very  safe  guide  in  abstruse  and 
difficult  inquiries.  Dr.  Chalmers  does  not  in  himself  possess 
sufficient  acuteness  and  skill  in  treating  metaphysical  ques- 
tions to  make  up  for  this  lack  of  information,  and  the  chap- 
ters in  which  he  hazards  any  attempt  at  subtile  and  refined 
reasoning,  as,  for  instance,  in  answering  the  objections  of 
Hume,  are  among  the  least  satisfactory  portions  of  the  book. 

In  spite  of  these  defects,  there  is  some  valuable  matter 
in  these  volumes.  Dr.  Chalmers  has  a  full  perception  of  the 
true  nature  of  the  question,  and  a  clear  insight  into  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  it  must  be  resolved.  If  he  has  not  added 
much  to  the  argument  for  the  being  of  a  God,  he  has  not 
perplexed  it  with  any  extraneous  matter.  Good  sense  and 
a  vigorous  mind  may  be  discerned  through  the  cloudy  en- 
velope of  words,  in  which  his  remarks  are  enclosed.  The 
spirit  in  which  he  has  conducted  the  inquiry,  and  the  gener- 
al tenor  of  his  reasoning  may  be  inferred  from  the  follow- 
ing remark. 

"  We  hold  it  with  Paley  greatly  more  judicious,  instead  of  grop- 
ing for  the  evidence  of  a  Divinity  among  the  transcendental  gener- 
alities of  lime,  and  space,  and  matter,  and  spirit,  and  the  grounds 
of  a  necessary  and  eternal  existence  for  the  one,  while  nought  but 
modifications  and  contingency  can  be  observed  of  the  other,  —  we 
hold  it  more  judicious,  simply  to  open  our  eyes  on  the  actual  and 
peopled  world  around  us,  —  or  to  explore  the  wondrous  economy 


214  SUBJECT   CONTINUED  I    THE    UNION    OF 

of  our  own  spirits,  and  try  if  we  can  read,  as  in  a  book  of  palpable 
and  illuminated  characters,  the  traces  of  the  forth-goings  of  a  cre- 
ative mind  anterior  to,  or  at  least  distinct  from  matter,  and  which 
both  arranged  it  in  its  present  order  and  continues  to  overrule  its 
processes."  —  Vol.  i.  p.  113. 

The  expression  here  is  a  fair  sample  of  that  wordy  man- 
ner, of  which  we  have  complained ;  but  the  opinions,  which 
are  stated,  respecting  the  proper  character  of  the  reasoning 
to  be  employed  in  Natural  Theology,  appear  sound  and 
judicious.  They  agree  substantially  with  the  views,  which 
we  have  attempted,  in  a  very  imperfect  manner,  to  set  for- 
ward and  defend  in  the  preceding  essay.  As  we  propose 
to  resume  the  subject,  with  a  view  to  correct  some  possible 
misconceptions  of  those  views,  and  to  consider  more  at 
length  the  inevitable  consequences  of  encumbering  the  sci- 
ence of  Natural  Theology  with  metaphysical  speculations, 
it  may  be  worth  while  to  restate,  in  a  very  succinct  man- 
ner, the  ground  which  was  therein  taken. 

We  endeavored  to  show,  that  the  great  doctrine  of  Natu- 
ral Theology  does  not  belong  to  that  class  of  abstract  and 
mathematical  truths,  to  which  alone  demonstrative  reason- 
ing is  applicable  ;  —  that  the  being  of  a  God  is  a  reality, 
and  his  existence  a  fact,  to  be  proved  like  any  other  fact  in 
natural  science,  by  arguments  of  the  same  kind,  though 
superior  in  number  and  force.  An  examination  of  all  the 
forms  of  the  a  priori  argument  was  intended  to  prove,  not 
only  that  the  reasoning  itself  was  entirely  inconclusive,  but 
that  it  was  founded  on  a  misconception  of  the  nature  of 
the  question  at  issue  ;  —  that  the  proposers  of  it,  by  over- 
looking the  distinction  just  mentioned  between  two  clas- 
ses of  truths  which  are  wholly  unlike,  had  fallen  into  the 
grave  error  of  representing  the  Divine  Being  as  a  mere 
abstraction,  and  thereby,  though  unintentionally,  had  play- 
ed into  the   hands  of  a  set  of  metaphysical  atheists  of  our 


THEOLOGY  AND  METAPHYSICS.  215 

day,  who  would  fain  pull  down  the  Eternal  from  his  throne 
in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  substitute  in  his  place  a  principle 
—  an  idea  — a  nothing— without  consciousness,  personali- 
ty, or  intelligence.  We  sought  to  point  out  the  true  char- 
acter of  the  argument  a  posteriori,  or  the  proof  from  de- 
sign, and  to  show  its  completeness  and  sufficiency  ;  —  to 
prove,  that  the  only  objections  to  it  were  of  a  metaphysical 
character,  and  proceeded  from  the  misconception  noticed 
above  ;  —  that,  by  exhibiting  the  unfitness  and  inapplicabil- 
ity of  such  abstract  reasoning  in  this  case,  not  only  would 
the  science  of  Natural  Theology  be  freed  from  the  rotten 
supports  and  profitless  speculations,  by  which  it  had  been 
encumbered,  but  also  the  only  sound  argument  for  the  vital 
doctrine  at  issue  would  be  relieved  from  all  the  cavils  and 
objections,  by  which  it  has  been  attacked,  and  be  placed  on 
its  true  basis,  alike  unassailed  and  unassailable.  A  com- 
parison between  the  truths  which  the  theist  seeks  to  estab- 
lish, and  the  doctrines  of  all  the  inductive  sciences,  was 
meant  to  prove,  that  they  must  stand  or  fall  together ;  — 
that  the  reasoning  which  invalidates  the  one  would  be 
equally  conclusive  against  the  others  ;  —  and  that  the  rea- 
soner  had  accomplished  enough  both  for  faith  and  practice, 
when  he  had  shown,  that  the  great  fact  of  religion  can  be 
attacked  only  by  arguments,  which  would  subvert  the  whole 
fabric  of  human  knowledge,  and  render  all  belief  and  ac- 
tion alike  impossible. 

These  views  were  very  inadequately  explained  in  the 
short  space  to  which  our  limits  confined  us  ;  and  much 
might  now  be  said  to  elucidate  and  support  them.  But  we 
do  not  intend  to  go  over  the  same  ground  again,  except  for 
the  sake  of  correcting  some  misconceptions,  and  of  exam- 
ining more  fully  a  cognate  subject,  —  the  propriety  of 
mingling  the  science  of  metaphysics  with  that  of  theology, 
or  rather  of  uniting  the  two  in  a  close  and  indissoluble 


216  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

union.  A  full  and  fair  consideration  of  this  question  might 
be  serviceable  at  any  time  and  under  all  circumstances  ; 
but  the  discussion  of  it  appears  particularly  seasonable  at 
the  present  day,  when  abstract  speculation  has  taken  a 
wider  field  and  a  bolder  license,  than  it  ever  assumed  be- 
fore. 

And  here  it  may  be  remarked,  once  for  all,  that  we  are 
dealing  with  opinions,  and  not  with  persons.  This  is  nei- 
ther the  time  nor  the  place  for  impugning  the  motives  of 
individuals,  for  throwing  doubts  upon  the  purity  of  their 
faith,  or  for  charging  upon  them  the  consequences,  that  are 
fairly  deducible  from  their  opinions.  All  abstract  specula- 
tions may  be  considered  as  published  anonymously  ;  there 
is  a  better  chance  of  weighing  them  with  candor  and  cor- 
rectness, when  the  personal  character  of  their  authors  or 
supporters  is  not  allowed  to  bias  the  decision.  It  is  possible 
to  expose  and  reprobate  in  the  plainest  terms  the  sophistical 
character  of  an  argument,  or  the  degrading  and  pernicious 
effects  of  certain  doctrines,  and  yet  not  "  bate  a  jot  "  of  the 
high  respect  due  to  men  who  may  have  used  such  reason- 
ing, or  entertained  such  sentiments,  without  examining  with 
due  care  their  purport  and  tendency.  In  showing,  that  the 
a  priori  proof  leads  by  necessary  consequence  to  a  doc- 
trine, that  can  hardly  be  distinguished  from  atheism,  we 
are  not  using  an  argument  ad  invidiam^  nor  attempting  to 
cast  a  reproach  on  the  reputation  or  the  principles  of  those 
who  adopt  and  defend  such  reasoning.  The  name  of  the 
great  champion  of  this  argument  stands  too  high  in  the 
English  church,  to  be  tarnished  by  the  slightest  breath  of 
suspicion  or  calumny.  But  the  liability  to  gross  abuse  is  in 
itself  a  consideration  of  weight  against  the  adoption  of  any 
class  of  speculations  ;  and  a  false  and  destructive  doctrine, 
that  is  fairly  deducible  from  them,  constitutes  a  reductio  ad 


METAPHYSICS    AND    THEOLOGY.  217 

ahsurdum  of  the  whole  system.  As  such,  it  may  properly 
be  pointed  out,  and  held  up  to  public  reprobation. 

In  distinguishing  the  two  modes  of  proving  the  being  of 
Ik  God,  as  the  a  priori  and  the  a  posteriori  argument,  we 
were  fully  aware,  that  there  is  an  ambiguity  in  the  use  of 
the  former  term.  But  the  usage  of  English  writers  has 
been  so  uniform  in  this  respect,  that  a  misconception  was 
hardly  possible,  except  by  bringing  in  the  different  applica- 
tion of  the  phrase,  which  has  become  current  among  the 
imitators  and  disciples  of  the  German  philosophers.  Yet, 
to  avoid  the  chance  even  of  this  mistake,  we  stated,  that 
"  if  the  meaning  of  the  term  be  restricted  to  original  and 
intuitive  perceptions,  which  are  independent  of  experience,  . 
the  distinction  implied  by  the  two  phrases  does  not  exist. ^''^  iL^  L  X)l 
These  first  principles  of  belief  are  implied  in  every  act  of     '  ' 

ratiocination  ;  they  are  taken  for  granted  in  the  argument 
from  experience,  and  in  every  other  proof"  These  intui- 
tive perceptions  are  called  "  principles  of  common  sense  " 
by  Reid  ;  Stewart  designates  them  as  "  fundamental  laws  of 
human  belief"  ;  Kant  calls  them  "  a  priori  cognitions  of 
pure  reason."  Now,  it  is  perfectly  idle  to  adopt  this  Kantian 
phrase  as  the  only  legitimate  one,  and  then  to  heap  up 
authorities  and  arguments  to  show,  that  such  intuitive  ele- 
ments of  truth  enter  into  every  process  of  reasoning,  and, 
therefore,  we  must  argue  a  priori  for  the  existence  of  a 
God,  or  not  at  all.  No  one,  who  is  at  all  acquainted  with 
the  subject,  ever  doubted  this  fact.  But  the  admission  of  it 
makes  nothing  in  favor  of  what  is  technically  called  the  a 
priori  argument  in  Natural  Theology  ;  and  to  allege  this 
fact  in  such  a  course  of  reasoning  and  with  such  a  purpose, 
is  mere  sophistry. 

According  to  its  etymology,  and  its   use  in  treatises  of 
logic,  an  a  priori  argument  is  one  in  which   the  reasoning 
proceeds  from  cause  to  effect,  and  from  principles  to  conse- 
19 


218  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

quences.  And  that  Dr.  Clarke  really  intended  to  use  it  in 
this  sense,  appears  from  a  passage  in  one  of  his  letters  to  a 
correspondent,  who  had  brought  forward  the  objection,  that 
such  reasoning  could  not  establish  the  existence  of  a  Fir^. 
Cause.  Dr.  Clarke  replies,  by  affirming  that  a  First  Cause 
could  be  deduced  from  the  antecedent  principle  of  necessi- 
ty^ and  by  reasoning  which  should  be  strictly  a  priori. 
"  For  though  no  thing,  no  being,  can  be  prior  to  that  Being 
which  is  the  First  Cause  and  original  of  all  things,  yet  there 
must  be  in  nature  a  ground  or  reason,  a  permanent  ground 
or  reason,  of  the  existence  of  the  First  Cause.  Arguments 
may  and  must  be  drawn  from  the  nature  and  consequences 
of  that  necessity,  by  which  the  First  Cause  exists."  It  was 
quite  pertinent,  then,  on  our  part,  to  restate  the  objection 
made  by  Clarke's  correspondent,  and  to  show  that  the  an- 
swer to  it  was  not  satisfactory,  because  the  reasoner  had 
actually,  though  unwittingly,  assumed  an  empirical  datum, 
or  a  fact  from  experience,  in  his  proof,  and  thereby  had 
wholly  destroyed  its  a  priori  character.  He  promised  to 
lead  us  up  to  the  great  truth  of  all  religion  by  a  new  path, 
—  to  "  nobly  take  the  high  priori  road,  and  reason  down- 
wards " ;  but,  after  a  little  digression,  he  conducts  us  back 
again  to  the  old  travelled  way,  where  alone  we  can  obtain 
firm  footing. 

But,  as  neither  mode  of  explaining  the  phrase  "  a  prio- 
ri"" supplies  a  plain  line  of  demarkation  between  the  two 
classes  of  proofs,  under  all  the  forms  in  which  they  have 
been  proposed,  we  conceived,  that  they  might  be  aptly  dis- 
tinguished, by  considering  the  one  as  a  professed  demon- 
stration of  the  object  sought,  and  the  other  as  laying  claim 
only  to  moral  certainty  in  the  conclusion.  This  distinction 
is  not  incidental  and  unimportant,  but  it  expresses  the  fun- 
damental difference  between  the  two  modes  of  reasoning, 
and  it  covers  the  whole   question,  with  which  we  have  any 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  219 

thing  to  do.  Dr.  Clarke  called  his  book  a  "  Demonstration 
of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  a  God,"  and  repeatedly  al- 
ludes with  satisfaction  to  his  favorite  mode  of  reasoning,  as 
producing  absolute  certainty,  while  the  argument  a  paste- 
riori  afforded  only  moral  proof  "  The  proof  a  priori  is," 
he  remarks,  "  as  I  fully  believe,  strictly  demonstrative  "  ; 
though  he  immediately  admits,  that  "  it  is  of  use  only 
against  learned  and  metaphysical  difficulties."  Descartes 
placed  his  ontological  proof  of  the  Divine  Existence  at  the 
very  foundation  of  his  philosophical  system,  which  was  to 
do  away  with  all  doubts  and  uncertainties  in  speculation, 
and  supply  an  immovable  basis  of  truth,  as  a  starting- 
point  for  all  subsequent  inquiries.  He  sought  to  establish 
this  great  fact  next  after  that  of  his  own  existence,  at  a 
time  when  he  still  professed  to  doubt  the  reality  of  the  out- 
ward world,  the  deductions  of  experience,  and  the  truth  of 
every  principle  in  philosophy  and  science.  Having  se- 
cured this  point,  as  he  imagined,  in  a  way  that  defied  all 
scrutiny  and  doubt,  he  proceeded  to  erect  upon  it  the  whole 
fabric  of  human  knowledge. 

Now,  half  the  evil  consists  in  the  magnitude  of  these 
pretensions.  It  is  plainly  implied  in  them,  that  the  other 
argument,  which  leads  only  to  moral  certainty,  is  insuf- 
ficient, that  mankind  must  either  renounce  the  belief  in  a 
God,  or  accept  the  fine-spun  reasoning  and  philosophical 
systems,  with  which  this  doctrine  has  been  connected.  A 
technical  distinction  in  logic  between  two  kinds  of  evidence 
is  set  up,  as  if  it  affected  our  belief  of  the  facts,  which  they 
tend  respectively  to  support.  Practically,  this  is  not  true  ; 
the  two  sorts  of  reasoning  differ  in  kind,  but  riot  in  degree. 
Everybody  knows,  that  the  highest  degree  of  moral  proof 
produces  a  conviction,  which  all  the  demonstrations  ever 
invented  could  neither  amend  nor  increase.  As  the  lo- 
gicians talk,  not  even   death   is  certain,  but  what  person's 


220  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  I    THE    UNION    OF 

hope  or  fear  of  that  dread  event  would  be  quickened  by  a 
demonstration,  that  it  must  happen.  The  reader  of  this 
page  is  not,  in  logical  phrase,  ahsolutely  certain  that  the 
black  marks  upon  it  were  not  produced  by  mere  accident, 
—  by  upsetting  an  inkstand,  for  instance.  It  cannot  be 
demonstrated,  that  any  human  being  ever  designed  to  con- 
vey any  meaning  by  them,  or  that,  in  pursuance  of  this 
purpose,  a  printer  was  employed  to  set  up  the  types,  and 
thus  produce  the  requisite  symbols  of  thought.  But  the 
reader's  conviction  of  this  fact  is  firm,  notwithstanding  the 
alleged  defect  of  evidence,  and  all  the  reasoning  in  Euclid 
could  not  increase  his  faith.  In  like  manner,  the  sublime 
dogma  of  the  existence  of  a  God  is  written  all  over  the  face 
of  creation  ;  but  some  philosophers  would  fain  persuade 
men  to  shut  their  eyes,  and  not  read  the  characters,  be- 
cause, forsooth,  the  truth  is  not  demonstrated  by  them. 

An  analysis  of  the  celebrated  argument  of  Descartes 
showed  that  this  philosopher  also,  as  well  as  Dr.  Clarke, 
had  deceived  himself  in  respect  to  the  true  character  of 
his  reasoning,  which  really  proceeded  from  the  effect  to 
the  cause,  though  he  fancied  that  it  was  strictly  a  priori. 
Having  proved,  as  he  thought,  that  the  idea  of  God  in  his 
own  mind  did  not  come  from  the  senses,  nor  from  his  own 
imagination  and  reflection,  it  followed  that  the  Infinite  Be- 
ing himself  must  have  placed  it  there,  that  it  might  bear 
evidence  to  its  Creator.  After  exposing  the  fallacy  of  the 
supposition,  that  the  whole  idea  of  Deity,  as  it  exists  in  an 
educated  and  intelligent  mind,  is  intuitive  and  innate,  be- 
cause some  of  its  elements  may  possess  this  character,  we 
remarked,  that  the  argument,  at  best,  was  only  a  proof  a 
•posteriori^  for  it  was  "  the  same  thing,  whether  we  reason 
from  the  anatomy  of  the  body  or  that  of  the  mind,  when 
the  peculiar  structure  of  each  is  the  only  ground  for  affirm- 
ing, that  it  is   the  work  of  an  intelligent  Creator."     Des- 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  221 

r 

cartes  was  guilty  of  an  inconsistency,  moreover,  in  intro- 
ducing tVie  argument  at  sucii  an  early  stage  in  his  inquiries, 
when  he  had  as  yet  proved  only  his  own  existence,  and 
the  presence  of  ideas  to  his  mind  ;  for,  although  the  reason- 
ing did  not  appeal  to  the  external  world,  it  took  for  granted 
the  law  of  causality,  or  the  legitimacy  of  arguing  from  the 
effect  to  the  cause,  a  principle  which  the  philosopher  had 
not  yet  demonstrated,  but  which,  with  all  other  principles, 
he  had  expressly  called  into  doubt. 

It  may  be  objected  to   this  account,  that  Descartes  pro- 
posed his  argument  in  another  form,  in  which,  without  rest- 
ing on   the  law  of  causality,  he   argued   directly,  from  the 
interna]  characteristics  of  the  idea  itself,  that  God   must 
exist.     But  those  who  make   this  objection  ought  to  know, 
that  the  form  in  which  we  stated  the  argument  was  the  ^^^  k  L^yj-^^xUi 
originally  adopted    by   the   philosopher,  and   explained   Sit j/l^fi^^^^^i-.T} 
large  in  his  "  Third  Meditation,"  where  it  supplies  one  link^^^^-ct^  JUIcUa. 
to  the  chain  of  principles  and  reasonings,  which  form   his^^yjy-^^ 
metaphysical  system.     Afterwards,  when  hard   pressed  by^'-^^^vXt/. /y^ao.  fit- 
his  opponents,  and,  as  it  appears  to  us,  with  a  view  of  cov-^*^,  ,  "4/U.TWU 
ering   his   retreat  by  logical   artifice  and  a  cloud  of  words,  ^ 

he  restated  the  argument  in  a  form,  which  may  be  found  in 
his  "  Answers  to  Objections."  Very  brief  extracts  will 
suffice  to  show,  that  Descartes  really  proposed  the  argu- 
ment which  we  attributed  to  him.  The  following  is  from 
his  "  Third  Meditation."  "Although  the  idea  o^  substance 
is  in  me  from  the  very  reason  that  I  am  myself  a  sub- 
stance, still,  I,  who  am  a  finite  being,  could  not  have  the 
idea  of  an  infinite  substance,  if  it  had  not  been  placed  in 
me  by  some  being,  who  was  truly  infinite."  And  in  the 
"  Answers  to  Objections,"  he  expresses  himself  still  more 
plainly,  thus :  "  The  existence  of  God  is  demonstrated 
by  its  EFFECTS,  —  from  this  fact  alone,  that  his  idea  is  in 
us."     We  were  guilty,  therefore,  of  no  injustice   toward 


222  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

this  philosopher  in  affirming  that  the  argument,  which  was 
embodied  in  his  system  of  philosophy,  was  wholly  a  'poste- 
riori. The  other  statement  of  the  proof,  though  it  excited 
more  discussion  at  the  time,  from  the  skill  with  which  it 
was  worded,  which  renders  it  difficult  to  detect  the  fallacy, 
is  now  admitted  to  be  sophistical,  and,  as  such,  is  generally 
abandoned.  Precluded  by  our  limits  from  following  Descar- 
tes through  all  his  discussions  with  his  opponents,  we  con- 
sidered only  that  form  of  the  proof,  which  he  originally 
proposed  and  incorporated  into  his  system,  and  which  is  ad- 
mitted to  be  sound  so  far  as  it  goes,  although  it  is  not  of  an 
a  priori  character ;  while  we  put  aside  the  second  state- 
ment of  it,  which  was  only  an  after  thought,  and  is  now 
universally  acknowledged  to  possess  no  weight  whatever. 
Certainly,  the  omission  did  no  injustice  to  Descartes. 

This  second  manner  of  stating  the  argument  may  be 
briefly  expressed  as  follows,  —  very  nearly  in  the  author's 
own  words,  though  sentences  are  brought  together,  which 
are  not  united  in  his  "  Answers  to  Objections."  The  exist- 
ence of  God  is  known  from  the  mere  consideration  of  his 
nature ;  for  necessary  existence  is  contained  in  his  nature, 
or  in  the  conception  of  God,  as  it  is  present  to  our  minds. 
Possible  existence  is  contained  in  the  notion  or  idea  of  all 
things,  which  we  conceive  clearly  and  distinctly  ;  but  ne- 
cessary existence  is  contained  only  in  the  idea  of  God. 
Now,  it  is  a  greater  perfection  to  be  a  real  existence  and  to 
be  in  the  understanding  also,  than  to  be  only  in  the  under- 
standing. But  my  idea  of  God  is  that  of  an  all-perfect  be- 
ing ;  therefore  he  really  exists.  Or  the  argument  may  be 
still  more  briefly  stated  as  follows  ;  In  the  idea  of  God  are 
contained  all  the  attributes  of  a  perfect  being  ;  but  neces- 
sary existence  is  one  of  those  attributes  ;  therefore,  he  ne- 
cessarily exists. 

We  presume  that  any  person,  when  this  argument  was 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  223 

first  proposed  to  him,  would  say,  that  it  must  be  a  sophism, 
or  a  mere  play  upon  words,  though  he  might  not  be  able  at 
once  to  detect  the  fallacy.  It  forcibly  reminds  one  of  the 
puzzles,  that  are  often  inserted  in  treatises  of  logic,  as  ex- 
ercises for  the  learner,  where  the  conclusion  is  at  once 
perceived  to  be  an  absurdity,  though  it  seems  to  rest  on 
perfectly  formal  and  legitimate  reasoning.  In  this  case, 
the  whole  fallacy  consists  in  substituting  the  phrase  "  ne- 
cessary existence  "  for  the  "  idea  of  necessary  existence." 
It  is  perfectly  correct  to  say,  that  the  idea  of  necessary  ex- 
istence enters  into  our  complex  notion  of  a  God.  But  the 
reality  does  not  follow  from  the  idea,  any  more  than  the 
reality  of  a  winged  horse  follows  from  my  conception  of 
such  an  animal,  —  of  Pegasus,  for  instance  ;  or,  still  more 
pertinently,  the  reality  in  this  case  can  no  more  be  inferred 
from  the  idea,  than  the  actual  presence  of  a  perfect  circle 
on  the  paper  before  me  can  be  deduced  from  the  mathe- 
matical, that  is,  the  perfect,  conception  of  such  a  circle, 
which  exists  in  my  mind.  To  say,  that  "  necessary  exist- 
ence "  is  contained  in  the  idea  of  God,  is  to  talk  nonsense  ; 
for  real  existence  is  the  direct  opposite  of  ideal  existence, 
and  it  is,  therefore,  a  contradiction  in  terms  to  affirm,  that 
the  former  is  contained  in  the  latter.  But  We  are  ashamed 
to  offer  a  serious  confutation  of  such  sophistry.  Descartes 
would  scarcely  have  proposed  it,  if  he  had  not  thought  to 
escape  from  the  assaults  of  his  opponents  by  a  logical 
juggle. 

It  seems  hardly  necessary  to  allude  again  to  Cousin's 
argument,  which  that  writer  himself  has  reduced  to  an  ab- 
surdity, by  showing  what  is  the  only  conception  of  a  God, 
to  which  such  reasoning  can  lead.  But,  as  it  is  possible  to 
modify  so  vague  a  statement  materially,  without  losing  any 
of  its  essence,  and  by  combining  it  with  the  Cartesian  proof, 
to  give  the  whole  argument  a  plausible  air,  it  may  be  worth 


224  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

while  to  examine  it  more  closely.  The  compound  argu- 
ment, made  up  from  the  reasoning  of  Cousin  and  Descartes, 
may  be  explained  as  follows.  Our  internal  recognition 
of  ourselves  as  finite,  limited,  imperfect,  and  dependent 
beings,  compels  us  to  form  the  conception  of  a  Being,  who 
is  infinite,  unlimited,  perfect,  and  independent.  The  rea- 
soning, thus  far  explained,  shows  how  the  idea  of  God  rises 
in  the  soul,  but  supplies  no  means  of  passing  over  from  the 
idea  of  him  to  the  conviction  of  his  actual  existence.  It  is 
said  further,  then,  that  the  conviction  which  we  have  of  our 
own  dependent  existence  as  realities,  necessitates  the  belief 
in  a  being  on  whom  we  depend,  as  equally  a  reality,  and 
not  a  mere  idea.  Dependence  implies  one  who  affords 
support,  just  as  much  as  design  implies  a  designer.  The 
author  of  that  support  cannot  be  another  dependent  being 
like  ourselves,  for  then  the  question  arises,  on  what  does  he 
depend  ;  and  so  on,  until  we  arrive  at  a  being,  who  is  the 
aider  and  supporter  of  all. 

Now  it  must  be  remembered,  that  we  have  to  do  only 
with  the  assumed  a  priori  character  of  this  proof, —  with 
the  assertion,  that  it  supplies  a  means  whereby  we  can  pass 
from  the  idea  of  God  in  the  soul  to  a  knowledge  of  the  re- 
ality, without  having  recourse  to  experience,  —  and  with 
the  consequent  assertion,  that,  as  the  reasoning  contains  no 
empirical  element,  it  supplies  demonstrative  proof  of  the 
Divine  Existence.  Then,  the  first  question  which  arises, 
respects  the  original  and  intuitive  character  of  these  four 
characteristics  of  human  nature  and  existence,  as  they  exist 
in  our  idea.  Does  consciousness,  previously  to  all  experi- 
ence^ make  us  known  to  ourselves  under  all  four  of  the  at- 
tributes or  qualities  here  enumerated  }  Certainly  we  know, 
whether  by  a  primitive  intuition  or  not,  that  we  are  limited, 
imperfect,  and, —  in  one  sense  of  the  word,  at  least, — 
finite.     But  how  dependent  1     This  is  the  attribute,  which  is 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  225 

added  to  Cousin's  enumeration,  and  the  whole  force  of  the 
present  argument  is  rested  upon  it,  though,  by  so  doing,  the 
reasoner  takes  for  granted  the  very  point  at  issue.  We 
wholly  deny  the  possibility  of  learning  from  consciousness, 
by  a  direct  and  spontaneous  perception,  that  we  are  depen- 
dent beings.  The  feeling  of  dependence  must  be  subse- 
quent to  a  knowledge  of  the  being  or  thing,  on  whom  we 
rely  for  support,  just  as  the  feeling  of  gratitude  is  necessa- 
rily subsequent  to  our  recognition  of  a  benefactor.  Grati- 
tude and  dependence  are  both  ideas  of  relation ;  both  imply 
a  subject  and  an  object ;  and  it  is  absurd  to  suppose,  that  a 
relative  idea  can  first  suggest  the  knowledge  of  one  of  its 
terms.  If  I  am  already  aware  of  the  existence  of  another 
being  besides  myself,  I  can  have  an  idea  of  the  relationship 
in  which  he  stands  to  me,  as  father,  brother,  or  friend  ;  but 
it  is  preposterous  to  suppose,  that  I  can  first  have  a  general 
idea  of  relationship,  and  be  guided  by  that  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  person  to  whom  I  am  related.  The  argument  inverts 
the  order  of  the  two  ideas.  It  is  either  experience  or  the 
knowledge  of  a  God,  which  teaches  us  the  folly  of  entire 
self-reliance,  and  not  the  feeling  of  depending  upon  some- 
thing, which  teaches  us  what  that  something  is. 

This  knowledge  of  our  condition  as  dependent  beings 
does  not  come  so  early  in  the  history  of  ideas.  We  soon 
learn  the  frailty,  weakness,  and  imperfection  of  our  nature, 
but  only  slowly  and  by  degrees  are  we  made  aware  of  the 
fact,  that  there  is  one  without  and  around  us,  whose  con- 
stant providence  sustains  the  weak  structure,  and  prevents 
our  frail  nature  momentarily  from  sinking  into  decay  and 
ruin.  A  stone  is  a  limited  and  imperfect  thing,  a  dead  and 
powerless  mass;  but  it  does  not  so  readily  appear,  at  first 
sight,  a  contingent  and  dependent  substance,  which  was 
created  and -made  what  it  is,  and  endowed  even  with  the 
force  of  gravity,  by  which  it  is  fastened  to  the  earth.     The 


226  SUBJECT    COr^TINUED  :     THE    UNION    OF 

hypothesis  of  the  materialist  and  the  atheist  is  at  least  a 
conceivable  one,  that  it  always  existed,  and  that  it  continues 
to  exist  by  blind  necessity  and  the  nature  of  things.  In  like 
manner,  animal,  or  even  intelligent,  life,  small  as  its  powers 
are,  and  limited  as  the  sphere  is,  through  which  they  act, 
does  not  appear  immediately,  and  to  the  uninstructed  un- 
derstanding, as  an  existence  supported  by  a  power  foreign 
to  itself.  The  heart  beats  and  the  lungs  play  seemingly  by 
the  force  of  their  own  mechanism,  and  without  interfer- 
ence ;  and  ideas  come  thronging  into  the  mind  in  what  ap- 
pears a  constant  and  necessary  connexion,  to  which,  at  the 
first  glance,  we  attribute  neither  limit  nor  end.  But  the  un- 
derstanding, enlightened  by  experience  of  interruption  and 
decay,  and  instructed  by  analogy,  learns  the  really  frail  and 
contingent  constitution  of  this  nature,  and  that  it  must  be 
constantly  upheld  by  a  power  external  to  itself,  or  it  would 
sink  into  dissolution. 

And  here  we  might  leave  the  argument,  as  stripped  of  its 
undue  pretensions  and  metaphysical  character,  and  retain- 
ing whatever  weight  may  be  attributed  to  it  among  the  oth- 
er proofs  from  experience,  with  which  it  may  be  classed. 
But  there  is  another  fallacy  in  the  original  statement  of  it, 
which,  as  it  shows  the  impropriety  of  representing  it  as  only 
a  modification  of  the  Cartesian  proof,  may  here  be  pointed 
out.  We  observe,  then,  that  the  force  of  the  reasoning  de- 
pends in  no  degree  whatever  on  the  idea  of  dependence, 
but  only  on  the  fact^  as  ascertained  and  verified  by  experi- 
ence, or  by  any  other  means.  The  fact,  that  human  nature 
is  weak  and  incapable  of  supporting  itself,  compels  us  to 
believe  in  a  creating  and  sustaining  Deity.  But  the  idea  or 
thought  of  such  dependence,  so  long  as  it  is  not  corrobora- 
ted by  proof,  does  not  accredit  this  doctrine,  any  more  than 
the  belief  in  the  independence  of  human  nature,  which  it  is 
very  possible    some    skeptics    may  entertain,  vouches  the 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  227 

truth  of  the  atheistical  hypothesis.  And  it  cannot  be  said, 
that  this  idea  has  a  place  among  the  primitive  intuitions  of 
the  soul,  and  therefore  deserves  credit  for  its  own  sake, 
though  destitute  of  any  support  from  without ;  for,  besides 
the  insuperable  objections  which  we  have  already  uro-ed 
against  such  a  classification,  it  is  violating  all  probability 
and  all  the  rules  of  philosophy  to  assign  an  a  priori  origin 
to  a  cognition,  which  experience  is  perfectly  competent  to 
supply. 

And  here  one  observation  may  be  addressed  to  those, 
who  are  so  much  interested  in  opposing  the  doctrine  of 
Condillac,  that  all  our  knowledge  comes  from  the  senses, 
or  the  less  objectionable  one,  which  is  commonly  ascribed 
to  Locke,  that  all  knowledge  is  founded  on  experience.  It 
is  poor  policy  on  their  part,  to  multiply  hastily  and  unne- 
cessarily the  number  of  those  principles,  to  which  they  as- 
cribe an  intuitive  and  spontaneous  origin.  We  believe,  that 
there  are  other  ideas,  like  that  of  cause,  the  genesis  of 
which  cannot  satisfactorily  be  explained,  either  by  external 
or  by  mental  experience.  But  their  number  is  not  fully  as- 
certained, nor  are  their  characteristics  clearly  defined  ;  and  it 
behoves  the  philosopher  to  proceed  with  the  utmost  caution 
in  making  additions  to  the  list.  To  seek  support  for  any 
hypothesis  or  argument  by  hastily  claiming  the  character 
of  an  ultimate  principle  for  the  idea  on  which  it  rests,  and 
branding  all  those,  who  oppose  or  doubt  it,  with  a  disposi- 
tion to  favor  the  Sensualist  school,  is  merely  to  go  on  spin- 
ning one  ideal  cobweb  after  another,  which  the  skeptic  will 
sweep  away  with  the  first  stroke  of  his  besom.  Such  a 
procedure  is  the  poor  resource  either  of  indolence,  which 
will  not  attentively  examine,  or  of  sophistry,  which  would 
willingly  deceive. 

A  striking  instance  of  this  willingness  to  multiply  ulti- 
mate principles,  may  be  found  in  the  speculations  of  some 


228 


SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 


writers  upon  the  argument  from  final  causes.  They  aflirm, 
that  design  is  an  intuitive  idea,  a  conception  of  pure  reason, 
called  out  and  developed,  it  is  true,  by  experience,  but  not 
growing  out  of  that  experience.  We  can  hardly  believe 
that  they  are  serious  in  this  assertion.  If  design  be  con- 
-»^  UTjvvA.*u.v,t  sidered  merely  as  synonymous  with  intention^  or  purpose., 
**vvw   w\j  VM^^t^j^gjj  1^  jg  evident,  that  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of  it  un- 

kA^   C^a^^.Cm^       .,,11.  r  ,  •  •, 

*  <^hifiAAf^^Cln^^J■^^  ^^  ^avc  had  experience  of  a  purpose;  that  is,  until  we 
-tW4  |'»«ha*«  ^have  intended  or  designed  to  perform  some  act.  The  ori- 
gin of  the  idea  is  in  reflection,  or  the  observation  of  what 
passes  in  our  own  minds.  So  we  experience  a  certain  emo- 
tion, and  apply  a  name  to  it,  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from 
other  emotions,  that  differ  from  it  in  kind,  or  are  excited  by 
a  different  class  of  objects.  But  it  would  be  very  strange  to 
say,  that  love,  or  wonder,  or  pity,  was  an  intuitive  idea. 

It  is  very  true,  that  we  mean  something  more  than  mere 
intention,  in  speaking  of  the  argument  from  final  causes. 
But  the  case  here  is  still  stronger  against  the  assertion,  which 
we  are  now  considering.  In  this  case,  design  is  a  very 
complex  notion,  nearly  all  the  elements  of  it  being  drawn 
from  mental  experience.  They  are  founded  on  our  obser- 
vation of  ourselves,  and  are  successively  elaborated  and 
united  into  the  complex  notion,  which  we  call  design.  The 
idea  rests  originally  on  a  perception  of  the  relation  of  means 
to  an  end.  Having  observed,  that  a  particular  event  follow- 
ed immediately  after  another,  or  several  others,  and  con- 
necting the  consequent  with  these  antecedents  by  an  intui- 
tive application  of  the  law  of  causality,  and  believing  that 
the  course  of  nature  is  uniform,  or  that  like  effects  will  fol- 
low like  causes,  and  desiring  that  the  consequent  event 
may  again  occur,  —  we  act ;  that  is,  we  exert  our  agency 
to  bring  about  events  similar  to  the  former  antecedent  ones, 
doing  this  under  the  expectation,  that  a  similar  consequent 
event  will  follow.    Thus  design  implies,  —  first,  intelligence, 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  229 

or  a  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  causality  and  uniformity;  — 
secondly,  particular  experience  of  some  one  event,  A,  hap- 
pening in  immediate  connexion  with  several  others,  B  and 
C  ;  —  thirdly,  a  will  to  reproduce  the  event  A  ;  —  fourthly, 
action^  in  order  to  bring  about  the  events  B  and  C,  under — • 
(fifthly)  an  expectation  that  A  will  immediately  follow.  Are 
these  five  elements  all  of  a  priori  origin  ?  Is  not  action 
necessarily  implied  in  design  ?  And  how  can  we  have  an 
idea  of  it  until  we  have  acted  ;  that  is,  until  we  have  had 
experience,  and  derived  knowledge  directly  from  that  expe- 
rience } 

It  is,  indeed,  in  the  complexity  of  this  notion,  that  the 
importance  of  the  argument  from  final  causes  almost  whol- 
ly consists.  Wherever  we  find  indications  of  design,  there 
is  evidence,  to  an  equal  extent,  of  intelligence,  will,  activi- 
ty, and  foresight.  The  God  there  revealed  is  an  individual, 
self-conscious,  and  creative  being,  and  not  a  mere  vague 
principle,  dimly  inferred  from  transcendental  musings, — 
aliquid  immensum  infinitumque,  —  but  without  personality, 
activity,  or  intelligence.  And  this  difference  between  the 
conclusions,  to  which  the  two  kinds  of  reasoning  lead,  is 
frankly  acknowledged  by  the  greatest  advocate  of  the  a 
priori  scheme.  Dr.  Clarke  expressly  admits,  that  the  in- 
telligence of  the  Deity  cannot  be  established  by  the  demon- 
strative method,  but  must  be  inferred  from  the  evidences  of 
design. 

The  same  disposition  to  multiply  the  spontaneous  ele- 
ments of  human  intelligence  may  be  seen  in  the  specula- 
tions of  several  writers  on  the  nature  of  the  religious  princi- 
ple in  the  soul.  They  place  it  in  the  same  class  with  the 
emotions  of  beauty  and  moral  approbation,  affirming  that, 
in  each  case,  there  is  not  only  a  feeling  or  sentiment,  which 
leads  us  to  appreciate  the  beautiful,  the  virtuous,  and  the 
holy,  but  an  idea  on  which  this  sentiment  rests,  a  type  of 
20 


230  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION  OF 

the  object  to  which  it  relates;  so  that  the  soul  is  originally- 
endowed,  not  only  with  a  feeling,  to  be  called  out  and  ex- 
ercised by  knowledge  subsequently  acquired,  but  with  a 
primitive  notion  or  pattern,  by  comparison  with  which  we 
learn  to  correct  whatever  is  afterwards  afforded  by  experi- 
ence, and  to  distinguish  the  real  from  the  factitious,  the 
true  from  the  false.  We  have  no  room  here  to  go  over  the 
broad  field  of  discussion,  that  is  opened  by  this  theory. 
We  can  only  point  out  a  single,  but  insuperable  objection 
to  the  whole  scheme,  and  notice  the  fallacy  of  the  theolo- 
gical argument,  that  is  founded  upon  it,  together  with  the 
mischievous  consequences,  to  which  this  argument  leads. 

To  begin  with  the  theory  of  taste  ;  —  it  is  urged,  that  we 
immediately  pronounce  an  object  to  be  beautiful  or  the  op- 
posite, and  that  this  decision  must  proceed  from  a  compari- 
son of  the  object  with  the  idea  of  beauty  previously  exist- 
ing in  our  minds ;  that  this  standard  cannot  be  the  recollec- 
tion of  another  beautiful  object,  previously  seen,  for  the 
question  then  arises,  what  made  us  esteem  this  previous 
object  beautiful ;  we  are  driven  back,  therefore,  to  the  the- 
ory of  a  primitive  pattern  or  archetype  of  beauty,  originally 
existing  in  the  human  soul,  by  a  reference  to  which  all  the 
principles  of  taste  are  determined.  We  maintain,  on  the 
contrary,  that  man  is  so  constituted,  that  the  sight  of  pecu- 
liar objects  immediately  calls  up  an  emotion  of  pleasure  or 
disgust ;  that  this  emotion,  having  characteristic  features, 
and  being  distinguished  thereby  from  all  other  emotions, 
receives  its  distinct  name  as  the  sentiment  or  feeling  of  the 
beautiful  ;  that  its  presence  being  agreeable  to  the  mind, 
we  are  led  to  search  after  objects  which  will  excite  it ;  and 
that  objects  are  immediately  perceived  to  be  beautiful  or 
not,  according  as  they  call  up  this  emotion  or  its  opposite, 
and  not  in  reference   to  any  idea  or  standard  whatever. 


METAPHYSICS    AND    THEOLOGY.  231 

whether   founded  on   previous   experience,  or  evolved   by- 
spontaneous  intuition. 

Now  the  question  between  these  two  theories  nriust  be 
deterniined,  if  at  all,  by  known  facts  respecting  the  growth 
or  cultivation  of  taste  in  the  individual  mind.  The  judg- 
ment of  the  child  and  the  uninstructed  person  in  matters  of 
taste  is  grossly  erroneous.  A  gaudy  dress,  a  tumid  style, 
a  daub  with  bright  colors,  an  unmeaning  jingle  of  sounds, 
excite  a  pleasant  emotion  in  him  ;  and  his  admiration  of 
such  objects  for  the  moment  is  perhaps  as  hearty,  as  the 
delight  which  a  cultivated  mind  experiences  on  surveying 
the  wonders  of  ancient  or  modern  art.  But  experience 
soon  corrects  the  faulty  decision.  The  full  glow  of  wonder 
and  delight  at  such  perceptions  passes  off  at  the  first  view. 
If  the  objects  are  repeatedly  seen,  the  emotion  no  longer 
arises.  The  individual  finds,  upon  trial,  that  less  obtrusive 
and  glaring  sights  gain  on  him,  as  they  are  examined  ;  that  i 

the  emotion  rises  as  high  and  continues  longer,  when   the 
object  calls  up  by  association  a  greater  number  of  kindred 
ideas  ;  when  he  is  enabled  to  perceive  a  meaning  and  pur-, '  •"  ^^/f ^/"^' 
pose  in   the  disposition  of  the   parts  ;  when  colors   are  soLutctX^tX/-^u. 
disposed  that  they  harmonize  and   pass  into  each  other  by    ^^J^™^/ 
imperceptible   gradations ;    when   the    drawing   accurately vuvvtC^^^        / 
represents  known  scenes  and  persons  ;  in  fine,  when  the 
mind  is  longest  occupied  in  tracing  out  resemblances,  pro- 
portions, relations,  and  associated  ideas.    For  during  all  the 
time  that  the  attention  is   thus  occupied,  the   pleasant  emo- 
tion continues,  while  it  rapidly  passes  ofl?"  after  the  first  view 
of  the  former  objects,  whiich  afibrd  no  such  prolonged  oc- 
cupation to  the   intellect.     The   individual  may  now,  if  he 
choose,  return  upon  his  steps,  and  form  a  theory  respecting 
the  elements  common  to  those   objects,  which   he  found  to 
afford  him  the  greatest  and  most  durable  pleasure,  and  thus 


232  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

lay  down  principles  of  taste,  and  form  an  artificial  standard 
of  beauty,  whereby  to  direct  his  future  judgments. 

How  do  these  facts  accord  with  the  two  explanations  giv- 
en above  ?  All  persons  of  cultivated  minds  agree  with 
each  other,  so  far  as  the  emotion  is  concerned  ;  they  all 
admire  the  same  things.  But  when  they  come  to  discuss 
the  principles  of  taste,  to  determine  the  idea  of  beauty,  no 
two  theories  are  alike.  And  the  judgment  in  respect  to 
pleasing  objects  is  instantaneous.  The  beholder  does  not 
stop  to  compare  the  sight,  either  with  a  natural  or  artificial 
standard,  but  pronounces  at  once  on  its  beauty  or  deformity. 
Mr.  Alison  did  not  wait  to  reckon  up  all  the  associated 
ideas,  which  a  landscape,  a  statue,  or  a  painting  brought 
to  his  mind,  before  he  determined,  whether  it  was  beautiful 
or  not.  He  experienced  the  pleasure  first,  and  afterwards 
labored  to  find  its  sources.  Moreover,  if  there  be  an  origi- 
nal idea  of  beauty  in  the  mind,  the  judgment  of  the  child 
must  be  more  correct  than  that  of  the  critical  student  of 
cBSthetics,  for  the  idea  in  his  case  is  nearer  its  fountain  ;  it  is 
less  perverted  and  dimmed  by  experience. 

This  discussion,  introduced  only  to  illustrate  our  main  ar- 
gument, has  already  carried  us  too  far,  though  a  multitude 
of  other  considerations  might  be  adduced  against  the  theory, 
which  assigns  to  the  idea  of  beauty  a  place  among  the 
primitive  intuitions  of  reason.  But  enough  has  been  said, 
perhaps,  to  leave  no  doubt  in  an  unprejudiced  mind.  We 
come  then  to  examine  a  perfectly  similar  instance,  —  the 
nature  of  the  religious  principle  in  the  soul.  We  believe, 
that  man  was  created  with  a  capacity  and  inclination  for 
worship,  ^  with  a  deep  feeling  of  reverence  and  venera- 
tion, which  finds  no  appropriate  object  on  which  to  expend 
itself  among  the  persons  and  things,  with  which  it  is  associ- 
ated on  earth,  but  constantly  seeks  for  such  an  object,  and 
usually  obtains  it  in  the  conception  of  some   spiritual  exist- 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  233 

ence,  higher  and  holier  than  itself.  Benjamin  Constant 
properly  designates  this  principle  as  the  religious  sentiment, 
and  with  great  learning  and  ingenuity  has  traced  the  history 
of  its  development  under  all  the  religious  forms  and  sys- 
tems, which  have  obtained  at  different  times  among  the  in- 
habitants of  the  globe.  The  feeling  itself,  however  power- 
ful, is  blind  and  instinctive  ;  its  object  is  not  given  along 
with  it,  but  is  left  to  be  traced  out  by  the  active  intellect, 
questioning  and  interpreting  the  operations  of  nature.  In 
this  respect,  it  agrees  with  the  feeling  of  moral  approbation 
and  the  sentiment  of  taste,  which  are  respectively  a  capaci- 
ty of  being  deeply  moved  and  affected  by  a  view  of  right 
actions  and  beautiful  scenes,  but  which  remain  dormant, 
until  a  perception  of  such  objects  calls  them  forth.  The 
idea  is  not  given  along  with  them,  for  if  it  were,  they 
would  remain  constantly  in  exercise.  It  is  even  a  sign  of  a 
morbid,  though  excited  state  of  the  moral  sentiment,  when 
its  energies  are  spent  on  the  contemplation  of  some  ideal 
and  abstract  pattern  of  virtue,  instead  of  being  applied  prac- 
tically in  determining  right  actions,  and  directing  conduct. 
So  the  religious  emotion  is  unprofitably  wasted,  when  it  is 
turned  from  the  contemplation  of  an  infinite  Being,  and 
diffused  over  vague  and  abstract  principles,  with  which  it 
can  hold  no  communion.  Its  proper  object  is  a  person  ;  its 
proper  expression  is  worship.  And,  unless  prayer  is  a 
mockery,  and  the  devout  affection  itself  a  feverish  delusion, 
such  a  person  exists,  and,  by  instilling  this  sentiment,  has 
erected  his  own  altar  in  the  hearts  of  men. 

If  we  seek  to  go  farther,  and  to  find  by  the  side  of  this 
feeling,  or  beneath  it,  an  innate  idea  of  the  object  to  which 
it  relates,  v/e  are  either  drawn  into  the  heated  region  of  -*<^  p^^ 
mysticism,  or  engage  in  a  vain  contest  against  accredited  "^^^^^  l-^yi, 
facts  in  psychology  and  history.  The  idea  cannot  be  found 
in  the  undisciplined  mind,  and,  if  it  could,  it  would  not 
20* 


234  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :     THE    UNION    OF 

prove  the  existence  of  its  object.  Every  person  would 
frame  his  own  unreal  and  fantastic  conception,  to  usurp  the 
name  and  prerogative  of  this  idea,  and,  resting  on  the  fidel- 
ity of  this  assumed  intuitive  notion,  he  would  not  allow  it  to 
be  corrected  by  the  light  of  nature  or  the  deductions  of 
reason.  The  conception  of  the  Divine  nature  would  thus 
be  corrupted  by  the  crude  and  debasing  notions  of  the  illit- 
erate understanding,  or  by  the  insane  fancies  of  the  mysta- 
gogue.  But  the  doctrine,  that  the  proper  object  of  the  re- 
ligious feeling  is  to  be  sought  in  study  and  contemplation 
of  the  material  and  intellectual  universe,  which,  if  such  a 
being  exists,  is  his  work,  leaves  our  idea  of  his  nature  to  be 
corrected  and  purified  by  the  increasing  fruits  of  such  study 
and  the  natural  growth  of  the  intellect.  It  does  not  oblige 
us  to  shut  our  eyes  on  all  ulterior  sources  of  information, 
on  all  indications  of  his  character  afforded  by  his  works,  for 
fear  of  tarnishing  or  falsifying  his  primitive  image  in  the 
soul.  This  doctrine  creates  the  science  of  Natural  Theol- 
ogy, the  study  of  which,  according  to  the  other  hypothesis, 
is  a  needless  and  unprofitable  task.  The  existence  of  the 
religious  feeling  does  not  afford  a  direct  argument  for  the 
reality  of  its  proper  object,  but  it  creates  an  antecedent  pre- 
sumption, which  is  of  no  small  weight  and  importance  in 
the  inquiry,  which  it  first  excited  and  stimulated. 

But  the  metaphysical  theologians  of  our  day  are  not  con- 
tent with  the  undoubted  fact,  that  a  religious  sentiment  ex- 
ists, as  a  part  of  the  original  constitution  of  our  nature,  un- 
less they  can  add  to  it  an  a  -priori  conception  of  pure  rea- 
son. Compelled  by  a  multitude  of  unanswerable  facts  and 
arguments,  for  a  plain  summary  of  which  we  may  refer  to 
the  first  book  of  Locke's  "  Essay,"  to  relinquish  the  posi- 
tion, that  there  is  an  innate  and  distinct  idea  of  God  in  the 
soul,  they  have  recourse  to  the  vague  and  inappreciable 
conception  of  the  "  Infinite,"  sometimes   boldly  identifying 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  235 

it,  as  Cousin  does,  with  the  Divine  nature,  and  thereby  re- 
ducing the  Deity  to  an  abstract  idea,  and  sometimes  avoiding 
this  conclusion  only  by  generalities  and  unmeaning  phrases. 
Were  this  theory  introduced,  not  in  connexion  with  the  the- 
ological argument,  as  a  resting  point  for  religious  faith,  but 
as  a  part  of  a  metaphysical  system,  as  pure  speculation,  its 
vagueness  and  uncertainty  might  be  pardoned,  in  view  of 
the  necessary  imperfection  of  philosophical  language.  But 
in  such  a  connexion  as  this,  bearing  on  the  most  momentous 
of  all  facts  to  the  human  race,  we  feel  constrained  to  ask 
for  an  explicit  account  of  the  idea,  on  which  the  whole  re- 
ligious fabric  is  made  to  rest.  What  is  this  conception  of 
the  "  Infinite  "  ?  Is  it  of  a  person,  or  thing,  which  can  be 
made  an  object  of  worship  ?  Or  is  it  merely  an  attribute  of 
being,  like  intelligence,  justice,  or  holiness  ?  Or  is  it  rather 
an  attribute  of  an  attribute,  a  word  expressive  of  the  de- 
gree, in  which  certain  qualities  exist,  as  when  we  speak  of 
"  infinite  goodness,  mercy,  and  truth  "  ?  Does  it  exist  as  a 
clear  conception  in  the  mind,  or  is  it  a  word  that  merely 
expresses  the  incapacity  of  the  human  intellect  to  compre- 
hend the  extent  of  certam  attributes  ?  Does  it  merely  teach, 
that  certain  qualities  go  beyond  the  reach  of  human  under- 
standing, but  how  much  beyond  we  cannot  tell  ?  Natural 
Theology  is  a  practical  science,  as  it  is  wholly  occupied 
whh  truths  which  are  intended  to  exert  a  direct  influence 
over  the  conduct  of  men,  and  we  have  a  right,  therefore, 
to  demand  that  the  terms  used  in  it  should  be  clearly  de- 
fined. 

This  predetermination  to  find  an  instinctive  religious  idea 
in  every  human  soul  has  led  to  much  profitless  discusssion 
of  the  question,  whether  any  real  atheist  ever  existed.  At 
least,  apart  from  this  theory,  we  see  no  good  cause  for  dis- 
puting, whether  one  philosopher  or  another  can  properly  be 
called  by  this  name  or  not.     The  appellation  implies  re- 


236  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

proach  ;  it  is  a  contumelious  one,  and  some  may  desire  to 
relieve  a  favorite  author  from  the  opprobrium,  which  it  con- 
veys. There  is  some  Quixotism,  perhaps,  in  contending 
with  great  earnestness  to  free  from  this  accusation  a  writer 
who  has  long  since  passed  off  the  stage,  and  has  left  none 
behind  him,  that  have  an  immediate  interest  in  his  reputa- 
tion. With  his  memory,  be  it  good  or  bad,  we  have  nothing 
to  do.  The  real  question  is,  whether  certain  writings  have  an 
atheistical  tendency  ;  whether  certain  opinions  lead  to  athe- 
ism, or  constitute  atheism  itself.  And  this  question  can  be 
very  easily  resolved,  if  we  do  not  allow  ourselves  to  be 
blinded  by  a  most  arbitrary  abuse  of  terms.  The  doctrine, 
that  only  one  substance  exists,  and  that  this  substance  is 
material,  has  existed  from  all  eternity,  and  is  governed  only 
by  necessary  laws  inherent  in  itself,  we  suppose  all  will  admit 
to  be  atheism.  The  common  name  given  to  this  substance 
and  its  inherent  attributes  is  Nature.  But  let  a  writer  stren- 
uously uphold  this  same  doctrine,  only  changing  the  name 
of  the  substance,  and  calling  it  God  instead  of  Nature,  and 
great  offence  is  given,  if  he  is  pronounced  an  atheist.  In 
like  manner,  some  of  the  ancients,  denying  the  existence  of 
any  other  gods,  believed  in  one  infinite  and  omnipresent 
principle,  which,  though  without  foresight,  intelligence,  or 
personality,  directed  all  events  by  its  irresistible  agency  ; 
and  this  opinion,  if  not  atheism,  is  admitted  to  be  something 
very  like  it.  But  some  modern  m.etaphysicians  propound 
the  same  theory,  only  naming  this  principle  God  instead  of 
Fate.,  and  they,  forsooth,  are  good  theists. 

Again,  we  say,  Do  not  let  these  remarks  be  misconstrued, 
or  tortured  into  a  charge  against  the  good  name  of  any  par- 
ticular writer.  Our  only  purpose  is,  to  illustrate  the  mischief 
and  folly  of  introducing  metaphysical  theories  into  the  do- 
main of  natural  or  revealed  religion.  Nor  do  we  seek,  in 
any  manner,  to  depreciate  the  study  of  that  science,  which, 


METAPHYSICS   AND    THEOLOGY.  237 

as  in  some  sense  the  head  and  fountain  of  most  other 
sciences,  assumes  to  itself,  par  exellence^  the  name  of  Phi- 
losophy. We  attempt  only  to  ascertain  its  proper  limits, 
and  to  maintain  its  authority  within  those  limits.  And  here 
we  do  but  follow  the  admirable  precept  of  Bacon,  whose 
authority  in  this  question,  both  as  a  philosopher  and  a  be- 
liever, is  surely  entitled  to  respect.  "  Tantoque  magis  hcec 
vanitas  inhihenda  venit,  ei  coercenda^  quia  ex  divinorum  et 
humanorum  malesana  admixtione^  non  solum  educitur  phi- 
losophia  phantastica,  sed  etiam  religio  hceretica.^'' 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  the  hypothesis  of  an  innate 
idea,  on  which  religion  is  founded,  we  observe,  that  it  is 
contradicted  by  the  endless  variety  of  religious  systems, 
which  have  obtained  in  the  world,  and  which  still  exist 
among  men.  This  variety  is  precisely  what  might  be  ex- 
pected, if  the  human  race,  feeling  an  irresistible  impulse  to 
reverence  and  adoration  of  something  higher  and  holier 
than  themselves,  but  having  no  primitive  and  common  idea 
of  the  object  of  universal  worship,  should  proceed  to  search 
for  it  with  that  degree  of  the  light  of  nature  and  reason, 
which  can  be  attained  in  different  stages  of  refinement  and 
mental  cultivation.  The  savage  makes  his  idol  of  a  block 
or  stone,  and  in  many  cases  worships  it  with  a  fervor  and 
self-sacrifice,  that  shame  the  colder  homage  ofliered  by  a 
civilized  race  to  a  nobler  God.  The  half-enlightened  bar- 
barian finds  a  Divinity  all  around  him,  and  peoples  the 
mountains,  the  streams,  and  the  forests  with  their  attendant 
deities.  More  cultivated  still,  his  thirst  for  knowledge  leads 
him  to  study  the  heavens,  and  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  be- 
come the  gods  of  a  religious  system,  which  seems  by  com- 
parison almost  spiritual.  Finally,  whether  by  the  last 
triumph  of  the  unaided  intellect,  or  by  special  revelation, 
the  sublime  doctrine  of  monotheism  is  preached  to  the 
world,  and  calls  for  the  purest  form  and  highest  degree  of 


238  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

reverence,  of  which  the  human  heart  is  capable.  How 
comprehensive  and  vague  must  be  that  universal  idea,  which 
is  realized  alike  in  the  Fetish  of  the  savage,  and  the  Olym- 
pic council  of  Grecian  deities,  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  the 
God  of  Christianity.  No  wonder,  that  the  philosophers 
have  chosen  the  most  vague  and  ill-defined  word  in  the  lan- 
guage, —  the  "  Infinite  "  — to  express  this  common  idea. 

We  have  discussed  nearly  all  the  forms,  in  which  the  a 
priori  or  demonstrative  argument  has  presented  itself,  and 
our  readers  can  decide  for  themselves  on  the  justice  of  the 
extravagant  pretensions,  that  have  been  advanced  in  its  fa- 
vor. The  question  about  its  amounting  to  a  perfect  demon- 
stration of  the  point  at  issue,  is  too  idle  to  be  entertained  for 
a  moment.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  logic,  no  question  about 
real  existence,  nothing  but  general  truths  and  pure  abstrac- 
tions, can  be  established  by  demonstrative  reasoning.  And 
with  respect  to  these,  the  moment  that  the  problem  is  solv- 
ed, of  finding  the  proper  media  of  proof,  and  the  chain  of 
argument  is  complete,  no  doubt  can  be  entertained  for  a 
moment  of  the  reasoner's  success.  The  mere  existence  of 
the  question,  therefore,  is  sufficient  proof,  that  in  this  case 
he  has  failed.  No  one  doubts  that  the  reasoning  in  Euclid 
is  demonstrative,  that  the  equality  of  the  three  angles  of  a 
triangle  to  two  right  angles  is  established  with  absolute 
certainty.  But  in  this  case,  there  are  not  only  the  atheists, 
who  deny  that  the  point  is  proved  at  all,  but  many  believ- 
ers, who  can  see  nothing  but  a  bundle  of  assumptions  and 
sophistries  in  the  argument,  which,  according  to  some  per- 
sons, is  apodictical.  There  is  no  escaping  the  force  of  this 
consideration,  unless  some  one  has  the  impudence  to  main- 
tain, that  among  the  multitude  who  question  the  validity  of 
the  a  priori  argument,  there  is  not  one  who  is  capable  of 
understanding  it.  We  will  not  stoop  to  notice  this  allega- 
tion farther  than  by  adverting  to  the  fact,  that  in  no  form  of 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  239 

this  argument  does  the  conclusion  lie  more  than  a  step  or 
two  from  the  premises.  The  reasoning  either  of  Descartes, 
Clarke,  or  Cousin,  can  be  fully  stated  in  three  sentences. 
There  are  many  persons,  who  are  not  able  to  read  the 
Principia^  or  the  Mecanique  Celeste  ;  but  very  few,  who 
cannot  put  together  the  first  three  propositions  in  Geometry. 
The  question,  whether  it  be  good  policy  to  expose  the  in- 
conclusiveness  of  any  argument  adduced  in  favor  of  this 
great  doctrine,  will  not  detain  us  long.  Truth  can  stand  on 
its  own  basis,  and  needs  no  support  from  sophistry.  We  do 
not  hold  to  cheating  people  into  ihe  belief  of  any  thing, — 
not  even  of  the  existence  of  a  God.  But,  in  respect  to  the 
good  intentions  of  those  who  bring  forward  this  plea,  and 
who  wish  to  leave  untouched  every  prop,  on  which  the  tot- 
tering faith  of  a  single  individual  can  by  any  possibility  find 
support,  this  consideration  should  not  be  so  summarily  put 
aside.  We  affirm,  then,  that  the  question  does  not  relate 
to  the  entire  validity,  but  to  the  proper  character  of  certain 
proofs.  It  has  been  shown,  that  the  reasoning  both  of  Des- 
cartes and  Clarke  involves  an  element  a  posteriori,  that  the 
whole  force  of  it  rests  upon  this  element,  and  consequently, 
that,  when  the  argument  is  properly  stated,  it  is  perfectly 
legitimate  and  conclusive.  We  feel  no  scruple  in  combat- 
ing the  reasoning  of  Cousin,  in  the  precise  form  in  which 
he  stated  it,  for  that  philosopher  himself  has  unwittingly 
exposed  its  atheistical  tendency.*  But  the  other  forms  of 
the  a  priori  argument,  when  stripped  of  the  metaphysical 
abstractions  and  sophistries,  by  which  they  are  encumbered 
and  rendered  unintelligible  to  many  minds,  and  of  the  pre- 
tention to  absolute  certainty,  which  serves  only  to  discredit 
the  other  proofs,  when  placed  beside  them,  may  all  be  wel- 
comed into  the  science  of  Natural  Theology,  as  tending, 

*  See  pp.  154,  155. 


240  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

with  more  or  less  force,  to  substantiate  the  truth,  which  all 
minds  are  interested  in  supporting.  We  remark,  farther, 
that  this  anxiety  to  preserve  every  argument,  so  that  the 
question  may  be  decided  by  their  cumulative  weight,  ap- 
pears rather  inconsistent  on  the  part  of  those  reasoners, 
who  affirm  that  several  of  these  proofs  amount  to  a  perfect 
demonstration.  The  mathematician  is  quite  satisfied,  when 
he  has  found  one  mode  of  demonstrating  a  proposition,  and 
never  thinks  of  searching  for  another,  except  as  a  matter  of 
pure  curiosity. 

But  an  unwillingness  is  manifested  to  reduce  the  great 
doctrine  of  the  Divine  existence  to  the  class  of  contingent 
truths  ;  and  it  is  openly  asserted,  that,  in  the  endless  series 
of  years,  which  we  are  here  obliged  to  contemplate,  an  ar- 
gument founded  only  on  probabilhies  gradually  wastes 
away,  and  finally  disappears  entirely.  Here  is  the  very 
mistake,  which  we  have  already  commented  upon,  of  sup- 
posing that  moral  and  demonstrative  reasoning  differ  not 
only  in  kind,  but  in  degree.  We  repeat  it,  then,  that  a  fact 
which  rests  upon  moral  certainty  is  equally  conclusive  and 
satisfactory  with  a  principle  which  is  established  with  abso- 
lute certainty  ;  and  we  appeal  to  the  convictions  and  con- 
duct of  the  whole  human  race  in  support  of  this  assertion. 
If  it  were  no  more  possible  to  doubt  the  being  of  a  God, 
than  for  any  individual  to  doubt,  that  his  own  death  must 
happen  some  time  within  a  century,  atheism  and  skepticism 
would  be  practically  impossible.  But  there  are  a  multitude 
of  contingent  truths,  in  comparison  with  which  even  the 
probability  of  death  appears  faint  and  uncertain.  Human 
intellect  is  made  up  from  them  ;  man's  life  is  guided  by 
them  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  To  affect  anxiety,  lest 
men  should  have  no  more  evidence  for  believing  the  great 
doctrine  of  theology,  than  they  have  for  thinking  that  food 
will  nourish,  fire  burn,  or  water  drown  them  ;  that  any  city 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  241 

exists,  which  they  have  not  visited  ;  that  any  person  lives, 
with  whom  they  have  not  conversed  ;  or  that  any  one  in- 
telligent being  exists  except  themselves,  —  is  an  absurdity 
only  to  be  equalled  by  supposing,  that  the  faith  which  they 
have  in  these  things,  whatever  it  may  be,  can  be  increased 
and  strengthened  by  a  metaphysical  argument  made  up  of 
pure  abstractions,  which  the  greater  part  of  mankind  can- 
not understand  at  all,  and  would  pay  no  attention  to  it, 
even  if  it  were  intelligible. 

The  assertion,  which  we  are  now  considering,  goes  the 
whole  length  of  affirming,  that  merely  probable  evidence  in 
this  inquiry  is  not  satisfactory,  and  ought  to  be  rejected 
altogether.  Let  those  who  make  it  remember,  that  the 
ablest  supporters  of  the  argument  a  priori  frankly  admit, 
—  what  appears,  indeed,  on  the  very  face  of  their  proof, — 
that  the  intelligence  of  the  Deity  cannot  be  substantiated  by 
their  reasoning,  and  must  be  accepted,  if  at  all,  on  the 
ground  of  moral  conviction.  Are  they  prepared  to  main- 
tain, that,  while  the  being  of  a  God  is  demonstrated,  his 
intelligence  is  not  satisfactorily  proved,  and  ought  not  to 
be  admitted  }  Are  they  willing  to  teach  mankind,  that 
disbelief  of  the  Divine  existence  is  indeed  an  absurdity,  but 
that  any  faith  in  his  wisdom  and  providence  is  fallacious  ; 
that  we  have  no  good  grounds  for  supposing  him  to  be  any 
thing  else  than  an  unconscious  principle,  acting  from  blind 
necessity,  without  intention  or  foresight }  iVo  ;  they  are 
not  ready  to  defend  or  believe  this  monstrous  proposition. 
Though  the  philosophers,  to  whose  guidance  they  have  un- 
wisely committed  themselves,  really  contemplated  this  con- 
sequence of  their  reasoning,  and  wished  to  inculcate  it, 
their  Christian  disciples,  at  least,  rather  than  accept  such  a 
corollary,  will  gladly  renounce  the  demonstration. 

In  arguing  against  the  sufficiency  of  moral  evidence  for 
the  being  of  an  Infinite  Creator,  by  alluding  to  the  endless 
21 


( 


242  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

lapse  of  years,  which,  according  to  some  reasoners,  it  is 
necessary  to  consider  in  the  reasoning,  there  is  a  want  of 
fullness  and  precision  in  stating  the  difficulty.  At  the  first 
view,  the  objection  does  not  appear  pertinent,  for  what  has 
eternity  to  do  with  the  question  ?  The  lapse  of  time  does 
not  affect  truth.  A  probability,  which  amounts  to  moral 
certainty  now,  will  possess  the  same  value  and  degree 
countless  ages  hence,  as  it  did  centuries  ago  ;  for  then,  even 
as  now,  "the  heavens  declared  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
firmament  showed  his  handy-work."  The  circumstances 
or  phenomena,  on  which  the  argument  is  founded,  remain- 
ing the  same,  or  being  constantly  reproduced,  the  conclu- 
sion must  follow  with  equal  certainty  through  all  time.  We 
admit,  that  if  the  argument  from  design  inferred  the  being 
of  a  God  only  from  an  act  of  creation,  which  took  place  six 
thousand  years  ago,  or  more,  the  difficulty  alleged  assumes 
meaning  and  pertinency,  though  it  has  little  value.  It  is 
founded  on  the  noted  atheistical  assumption,  as  old,  at  least, 
as  Lucretius,  that  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms  in  an  in- 
finite series  of  years  may  take  the  appearance  of  regularity 
and  adaptation  ;  —  that  the  chance  of  order  is  at  least  one 
out  of  an  infinite  number  of  chances  of  disorder,  and  there- 
fore must  occur  at  least  once  during  an  eternity.  Knowing, 
—  if  it  be  not  a  contradiction  in  terms,  —  that  an  infinite 
series  of  ages  has  passed,  we  can  only  infer  from  the  phe- 
nomena around  us,  that  we  live  at  the  particular  epoch  in 
eternity's  history,  when  chance  has  assumed  the  appear- 
ance of  order  and  design.  Thus,  by  the  anxiety  to  invali- 
date or  throw  a  suspicion  on  the  argument  from  final  cau- 
ses, which  encourages  us  to  look  for  proof,  not  in  abstract 
propositions,  but  over  the  whole  face  of  nature,  the  objector 
unwittingly  gives  in  to  that  low  theory  of  materialism, 
which  represents  the  universe  as  a  great  machine,  that  was 
wound  up  at  the  time  of  creation,  and  has  continued  to  go 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  243 

on  mechanically  ever  since,  without  interference,  oversight, 
or  support  from  its  Maker.  He  forgets,  that  the  difficulty 
alleged  has  neither  force  nor  pertinency,  when  the  argu- 
ment from  design  is  so  stated  as  to  prove,  not  merely  that 
a  God  did  exist,  when  the  world  was  created,  but  that  he 
exists  now,  and  is  continually  manifesting  himself  in  fresh 
works  of  wisdom  and  goodness.  Divine  energy  was  not 
exhausted  in  first  building  a  world.  It  continues  and  acts, 
and  creation  is  constantly  going  on  around  us. 

The  argument  from  design,  properly  applied,  gives  proof 
of  intelligence  and  activity  from  the  continuance,  and  not 
merely  from  the  beginning,  of  things.  It  proceeds  not  only 
from  the  creation  of  the  race,  but  from  the  birth  of  the  in- 
dividual. In  the  seed  which  swelled  under  the  last  night's 
rain,  in  the  shoot  which  appeared  under  this  morning's  sun, 
it  finds  proof  of  ever  present  and  ever  acting  power.  To 
the  reflecting  theist, 

"  The  world's  unwithered  countenance 
Is  bright  as  at  creation's  day," 

and  reflects  as  clearly  its  Maker's  image.  Having  already 
glanced  at  this  aspect  of  the  argument  in  a  former  essay, 
our  limits  will  not  permit  us  now  to  enter  the  broad  field 
of  remark  and  illustration,  which  it  opens.  But  a  single 
view  may  be  taken  of  it,  from  a  point  which  lies  so  near 
the  metaphysical  argument,  that  it  may  be  acceptable  to 
those  persons,  who  can  trust  to  nothing  but  that  kind  of  rea- 
soning. 

Admitting,  for  a  moment,  the  general  principle,  which 
we  regard  as  wholly  indefensible  and  unphilosophical,  that 
in  the  material  universe  the  argument  from  the  effect  to 
the  cause  finds  place  only  at  the  beginning  of  a  succession 
of  beings,  and  not  at  any  one  link  in  that  succession,  in  the 
world  of  mind  we  have  irrefragable  evidence  at  every  step, 
which  leads  us  up  from  the  created  directly  to  the  Creator. 


244  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

This  evidence  appears  in  the  essential  unity  of  personahty, 
in  our  recognition  of  the  indivisible  Ego  in  consciousness. 
I  am  one.  The  living,  sentient,  thinking  being,  which  I 
call  self,  possesses  a  separate  and  indivisible  existence.  It 
is  necessarily  one,  for  we  cannot  conceive  of  it  as  many, 
or  as  separable,  or  divisible  in  any  sense.  Such  a  suppo- 
sition is  an  absurdity.  But  I  began  to  be  ;  for  time  was 
when  I  was  not.  Then  whence  came  I  ?  The  theory, — 
which  we  are  here  taking  for  granted  in  respect  to  the 
world  of  matter,  —  which  refers  the  beginning  of  an  in- 
dividual's existence  to  the  first  creation  of  the  race  to 
which  he  belongs,  which  considers  intelligent  life  as  con- 
tinuous through  a  succession  of  beings,  one  springing  out  of 
another,  and  then  giving  birth  to  a  third,  by  virtue  of  prin- 
ciples infused  or  machinery  contrived  in  the  race,  when 
the  original  progenitor  of  it  was  formed,  —  this  theory,  we 
say,  will  not  hold  in  the  present  case.  It  is  contradicted 
by  the  great  fact  of  my  existence  as  an  indivisible  unit. 
Complexity  of  parts,  according  to  the  materialist's  hypothe- 
sis, is  essential  to  the  propagation  of  existence.  The  seed 
exists  in  the  fruit ;  the  germ  exists  in  the  seed.  It  is  af- 
terwards taken  from  the  fruit  and  the  seed,  and  begins  to 
exist  as  a  distinct  plant.  But  this  is  the  commencement  of 
its  separate,  not  of  its  total  being.  It  existed  before  ;  it 
was  in  the  parent  plant,  as  a  part  of  it,  and  its  birth  was 
not  a  creation,  but  a  division  of  existence.  The  beginning 
of  any  material  life,  a  tree,  a  flower,  an  animal,  is  not  the 
creation  of  any  thing  new,  but  the  development  of  a  germ, 
which  existed  ages  before,  —  which  has  lived  ever  since 
the  world  was.  But  the  beginning  of  intellectual  life,  the 
essential  unity  of  which  is  attested  by  consciousness,  can- 
not be  explained  by  mere  separation.  It  cannot  give  birth 
to  another  by  division  of  itself.  In  fine,  the  materialist  af- 
firms, that  birth  is  but  a  separation,  and  growth  but  an 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  245 

accretion  and  assimilation,  of  parts  that  previously  existed, 
though  in  an  inorganic  state  ;  for  it  is  a  necessary  part  of 
this  hypothesis,  that  the  number  of  primary  particles  in  the 
universe  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  it  was  at  the  crea- 
tion. Meeting  him  on  his  own  ground,  we  reply,  that  his 
own  personal  existence  is  certain  proof,  that  at  least  one 
unit  has  been  added  to  the  mass  of  being,  since  the  forma- 
tion of  the  universe.  Of  course,  we  have  every  reason 
from  analogy  to  believe,  that  the  beginning  of  life  in  all 
cases,  even  animal  and  vegetable,  is  the  addition  of  a  unit 
to  the  sum  of  being,  and  therefore  a  direct  act  of  creation, 
as  much  as  the  building  of  a  world  or  a  system.  But  only 
in  intellectual  life  have  we  positive  evidence  of  this  fact 
from  consciousness. 

Fully  to  expose  the  erroneousness  of  that  grovelling  the- 
ory of  materialism,  which  deprives  this  fair  universe  of  the 
present  and  continuous  agency  of  the  Creative  Mind,  would 
carry  us  far  beyond  our  present  limits.  Returning,  there- 
fore, to  a  consideration  of  the  course,  which  is  likely  to  af- 
ford most  support  to  the  doctrines  of  Natural  Religion,  it 
may  be  remarked,  that  the  only  effectual  answer  to  the  ob- 
jections of  the  metaphysical  skeptics  consists  in  showing, 
that  their  reasoning  is  wholly  inapplicable  and  impertinent. 
Of  course,  the  atheist  must  be  met  wherever  he  is  to  be 
found  ;  but  he  can  be  successfully  met  as  well  by  showing 
that  his  arguments  have  no  bearing  upon  the  point  at  is- 
sue, as  by  exposing  the  fallacy  and  inconclusiveness  of 
the  arguments  themselves.  Every  one  knows,  that  nearly 
all  the  skeptical  objections  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine 
existence  are  of  a  metaphysical  character,  and  are  directed 
solely  against  the  unwise  assertion,  that  the  reasoning  of 
the  theist  is  demonstrative.  The  two  most  formidable  op- 
ponents of  the  doctrine,  Hume  and  Kant,  reasoned  entirely 
in  this  manner.  Probably  neither  of  them  wholly  disbe- 
21* 


246  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

lieved  the  doctrine  itself,  but,  with  all  the  perverse  inge- 
nuity of  a  skeptical  turn  of  mind,  and  the  pride  of  a  subtile 
intellect  in  detecting  and  exposing  the  assumptions  and 
sophistries  of  the  metaphysicians,  they  labored  to  create  an 
apparent  opposition  between  the  faith  of  the  heart  and  the 
deductions  of  the  understanding.  They  attacked,  not  the 
Christian  believer,  but  the  philosophical  dogmatist.  They 
showed  triumphantly  the  inconclusiveness  of  the  demon- 
stration, but  left  untouched  the  overwhelming  probability 
arising  from  the  moral  argument.  Kant  expressly  ad- 
niitted,  that  the  proof  from  final  causes,  if  not  set  forward 
as  a  demonstration,  is  sound  and  legitimate.  Arriving  at 
the  same  conclusion  by  a  different  road,  Hume  attacked 
the  necessary  reasoning  from  the  effect  to  the  cause,  but 
avowed,  both  in  his  writings  and  conduct,  that  we  must  be- 
lieve in  a  causal  connexion ;  and  some  passages  in  his  later 
writings  are  construed,  not  without  reason,  to  imply  that  he 
himself,  on  this  ground,  admitted  the  being  of  a  God.  He 
was  a  better  reasoner  and  a  more  acute  thinker  than  most 
of  his  opponents,  for  he  perceived  the  exact  reach  and  ap- 
plication of  his  own  arguments.  Both  of  these  philoso- 
phers were  guilty  of  a  want  of  ingenuousness,  perhaps  also 
of  a  direct  intention  to  deceive,  by  not  constantly  avowing 
that  their  objections  reached  the  theistical  argument,  so  far 
only  as  it  claimed  to  be  a  demonstration  of  the  point  at 
issue,  and  thereby  leaving  it  to  be  inferred,  that  they  in- 
validated the  whole  proof.  And  this  erroneous  inference 
has  been  confirmed  by  the  course  adopted  by  many  writers 
on  the  opposite  side,  who,  more  anxious  to  defend  meta- 
physics than  to  support  Natural  Theology,  have  unwisely 
joined  issue  on  the  point  as  presented  by  the  skeptics,  and 
failing,  —  where,  according  to  all  the  principles  of  logic, 
they  ought  to  have  expected  failure,  —  to  establish  the 
proof  as  a  demonstration,  they  have  allowed  their  own  ill 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  247 

success  to  be  imputed  to  the  weakness  of  their  cause. 
And  yet  they  turn  round  on  one  who  advises  the  abandon- 
ment of  this  point,  which  nobody  but  a  metaphysician 
cares  any  thing  about,  and  accuse  him  of  withdrawing  the 
props  of  theological  science,  and  weakening  the  position  of 
the  theist. 

If  Natural  Theology  be  placed  on  the  same  level  with 
the  other  inductive  sciences,  the  great  truths  which  it  in- 
volves are  for  ever  secured  against  the  assaults  of  general 
skepticism  and  atheistical  philosophy.  No  reasoning  can 
touch  it,  which  does  not  in  a  still  greater  degree  affect  the 
certainty  of  every  proposition  in  human  science.  The  ir- 
relevancy of  nearly  every  atheistical  argument,  which  can 
be  found  in  the  books,  will  appear  at  the  first  glance ;  and 
the  skeptic  must  either  abandon  the  discussion  altogether, 
or  find  some  mode  of  attacking  religious  truth,  without 
making  at  the  same  time  the  insane  attempt  to  crush  the 
whole  fabric  of  man's  belief  into  utter  ruin.  But  this  se- 
cure position  cannot  be  taken,  unless  the  defender  of  theism 
will  give  up  his  pride  in  metaphysics,  and  his  undue  preten- 
sions. He  cannot  deny  to  his  opponent  the  use  of  such 
weapons  as  he  wields  himself  He  cannot  reject  in  one 
part  of  the  argument  the  issue  which  he  offers  in  another. 
While  one  party  reasons  with  Descartes  and  Clarke,  the 
other  will  reply  with  Hume,  Spinoza,  and  Kant ;  and,  where 
entire  victory  is  not  possible  on  either  side,  the  advantage 
will  always  remain  with  the  skeptic. 

It  is  very  true,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  being  of  a  God 
would  be  set  aside  by  the  establishment  of  universal  skepti- 
cism,—  by  a  system  of  philosophy  which  destroys  all  be- 
lief, tears  up  all  the  sciences  by  the  roots,  and  leaves  man- 
kind incapable  of  knowledge,  action,  or  hope.  But  in  such 
a  general  calamity,  who  cares  what  single  plank  is  saved 
from  the  wreck  ?     Why  is  Natural  Theology  singled  out  as 


248  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :     THE    UNION     OF 

the  only  science)  that  is  to  be  burdened  with  the  necessity 
of  fighting  alone  against  an  assault  which  is  to  destroy  all, 
and  in  warding  off  which,  of  course,  all  the  sciences  are 
equally  interested  ?  The  geologist,  the  chemist,  the  astron- 
omer, do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  commence  their  labors 
with  a  demonstration  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  be- 
lief, and  the  sufficiency  of  the  human  faculties  for  the  pur- 
suit of  truth.  They  leave  this  task  for  the  metaphysician, 
as  falling  wholly  within  his  province.  Let  him  go  on  with 
his  proper  work  of  erecting  intrenchments  along  the  whole 
borders  of  human  belief,  and  making  incursions  into  the 
ground  of  skepticism,  and  we  bid  him  God  speed  in  the 
enterprise.  But  do  not  let  him  fasten  on  the  one  fact  which 
is  dearest  of  all  to  man,  as  if  that  alone  were  interested  in 
his  success,  and  thereby  make  it  alone  responsible  for  all 
his  mistakes  and  failures.  Let  him,  at  least,  give  some 
plausible  reasons  for  such  a  course  ;  let  him  show  some 
ground  of  distinction  between  Natural  Theology  and  Natu- 
ral Philosophy,  which  compels  the  proficient  to  adopt  a 
mode  of  defence  for  the  former,  which  he  would  be  laughed 
at  for  using  in  regard  to  the  latter.  The  being  of  a  God  is 
a  truth  of  practical  and  vital  importance.  The  defence  of 
philosophy  against  the  assaults  of  general  skepticism  is  a 
purely  speculative  contest.  Whichever  way  determined,  it 
never  affected  the  actions  of  any  sane  person  since  the 
world  began.  Hume  ate  his  dinner,  not  doubting  that  the 
effect  of  the  food  would  be  to  nourish  and  strengthen  his 
body  ;  and  he  wrote  and  published  his  books,  fully  believing 
that  intelligent  people  would  read  them,  though  he  had  no 
grounds  to  believe  that  any  such  persons  existed,  except  by 
arguing  from  experience,  —  from  the  indications  of  intelli- 
gence and  design.  And  yet  he  sought  to  deter  men  from 
believing  in  the  existence  of  a  God,  by  arguments  that  ought 
to  have  prevented  him  from  swallowing  food,  or  from  writ- 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  249 

ing  a  line.  No  !  we  do  him  wrong ;  he  expected  no  such 
thing.  He  proposed  a  logical  puzzle  for  the  philosophers 
to  solve,  and  they  strangely  supposed  that  all  religious  be- 
lief was  involved  in  their  success. 

If  the  doctrines. of  Natural  Religion  only  were  at  stake, 
—  if  the  evil  stopped  with  the  injudicious  treatment  of  the 
argument  for  the  being  of  a  God,  —  this  protest  against  the 
introduction  of  purely  speculative  metaphysics  might  seem 
to  be  too  warmly  expressed.  Unhappily,  the  mischief  does 
not  end  here.  No  one,  who  has  watched  the  progress  of 
speculation  of  late  years,  can  be  ignorant  of  the  use  made 
of  the  intimate  connexion  between  religion  and  philosophy, 
to  set  up  a  claim  of  precedence  and  authority  for  the  latter, 
which  is  wholly  of  human  origin,  and  to  reduce  the  former 
to  a  mere  province  to  be  governed,  modified,  and  altered  at 
will.  That  ominous  phrase,  "  the  philosophy  of  religion," 
is  constantly  dinned  into  our  ears,  even  by  theologians,  while 
we  seek  in  vain  for  any  evidence  of  the  religious  character 
of  the  popular  philosophy.  The  effect  thus  far  has  been,  to 
give  to  all  the  doctrines  of  faith  something  of  the  wavering 
and  unsettled  air,  which  belongs  to  the  fluctuations  of  met- 
aphysical opinions,  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  systems.  The 
question  is  not  like  one  between  different  theological  sects, 
which  acknowledge  a  common  rule  and  guide,  but  it  con- 
cerns the  establishment  of  a  new  standard,  by  which  all 
forms  of  religion  are  to  be  tried.  In  fine,  the  question  is, 
whether  we  are  to  have  a  religious  faith  with  something 
fixed,  with  the  God  of  nature  and  the  Scriptures  to  rest 
upon,  or  whether  we  are  to  take  such  a  one  as  the  philoso- 
phers will  make  for  us,  which  shall  be  one  thing  under  the 
system  of  Kant,  and  another  under  that  of  Cousin. 

If  it  were  not  for  the  serious  character  of  the  subject, 
one  might  even  be  amused  at  the  extravagance  of  the 
claims  put  forward  by  speculative  metaphysicians,  and  their 


250  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

assumption  of  perfect  authority  to  decide  on  all  matters  of 
religious  belief.     They  ground  their  theories  on  the  suppos- 
ed intuitive  ideas  and   convictions  of  the  soul,  which  are 
multiplied  and  characterized   at  random,  and   which   it  is 
sensualism,  or  atheism,  or  something  worse,  to  question  or 
deny  ;  and,  building  upon  these  premises  what  they  call  a 
structure  of  demonstrative  reasoning,  they  arrive  at  results 
that  are  necessary ^  —  which   mankind    must  believe.     To 
these  results,  all    preconceived   notions,  all  matters  of  mere 
religious  faith,  all  revelations   grounded  on   testimony,  or 
other  sources   of  what  is   only  moral  evidence,  must  either 
give  way  or  conform.     Take  an   instance  in  what  is  com- 
monly termed  the   Transcendental  Philosophy^  or  the  sys- 
tem of  Kant.     By  a  critical   survey  of  the   human  under- 
standing,   he   undertook    to    separate    what    is   contingent, 
empirical^  and    uncertain   in    man's  belief,   from    what   is 
absolute,   original,  and   imperative.      Confining   the   term 
knowledge^  to  those  elements   which   present   these  latter 
characteristics,  he  attempted  to  determine  and  classify  them 
all  under  the  name  of  the  "  a  priori  conceptions  of  pure 
reason,"  and  thus  to  supply  an  immovable   basis  for  all 
future  systems  of  philosophy.     In  this  undertaking,  he  fol- 
lowed the   example   of  Descartes,  who,  as  we   have  seen, 
propounded  his  theory  in  order  to  do  away  with  the  endless 
mistakes  and  retrogressions  of  former  philosophers,  and  to 
create  a  foundation  with  absolute  certainty  for  future  effort. 
As  the  scheme,  in  both  instances,  covered  the  whole  field 
of  human   knowledge,  the  dogma  of  the  Divine   existence 
came  naturally   to  be  examined,  and  its  claims  to   be  dis- 
cussed, by  both  writers.     But  in  this  portion  of  the  task,  the 
Frenchman  was  more  fortunate  than  his  German  successor. 
Descartes  fancied,  that  he  had  found  a  demonstrative   proof 
of  the  being  of  a  God,  and   this   doctrine  was   accordingly 
built  into  his  theory,  as  a  component  part  of  it.     Kant  was 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  251 

not  SO  happy.  He  tried  all  the  proofs  that  had  been  offer- 
ed, and  found  them  all  defective  ;  and  he  completed  his 
work  by  proving  to  a  demonstration,  that  no  proof  could  be 
offered,  that  the  subject  lay  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  human  faculties,  that  the  arguments  for  and  against 
must  always  balance  each  other,  and,  consequently,  that  no 
decision  was  possible.  But,  as  it  appeared  that  men  were 
not  very  willing  to  give  up  the  old-fashioned  notion  of  a 
Deity,  in  a  subsequent  work,  the  "  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason,"  or  the  survey  of  the  moral  faculty,  Kant  found 
occasion  to  admit  the  doctrine  in  question,  not  as  substanti- 
ated by  any  process  of  reasoning,  —  for  this  he  expressly 
disclaims,  —  but  as  an  assumption,  a  postulate,  a  proposi- 
tion which  men  must  believe,  though  they  can  show  no 
reason  for  it.  At  this  point,  the  theory  was  taken  up  by 
a  zealous  disciple,  and  carried  forward  to  the  criticism  of 
revealed  religion  on  the  same  principles,  which  had  settled 
so  satisfactorily  the  claims  of  Natural  Theology. 

Fichte's  "  Critique  of  all  Revelation  "  was  only  the  anti- 
cipation of  a  work  subsequently  performed  by  Kant  him- 
self; the  same  results,  substantially,  being  obtained,  that 
were  afterwards  developed  in  Kant's  treatise,  entitled  "  Re- 
ligion within  the  Limits  of  mere  Reason."  Fichte  proposed 
to  establish  a  "  Critique,"  that  is,  a  fundamental  examina- 
tion on  the  principles  of  the  Critical,  or  Transcendental, 
philosophy,  not  of  that  revelation  in  which  Christians  are 
specially  interested,  nor  of  any  other  in  particular,  but  of 
all  possible  revelations.  In  other  words,  supposing  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God,  and  of  a  race  of  beings  constituted  and 
situated  as  we  are,  he  proposes  to  determine  whether  it  be 
possible,  that  he  should  make  a  special  communication  to 
his  creatures,  and,  if  so,  in  what  way  it  is  possible.  The 
inquiry  is  to  be  carried  on,  not  as  a  mere  speculation,  but 
like  a  piece  of  mathematical  reasoning,  and  the  results,  if 


252  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

any  are  obtained,  are  to  be  as  little  susceptible  of  doubt,  as 
any  theorem  in  Euclid. 

And  what  are  the  results,  at  which  the  inquirer  arrives 
in  this  bold  attempt  to  settle  the  bounds  of  human  belief, 
and  prescribe  laws  to  Omnipotence,  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  he  shall  make  known  his  will  to  mankind  ?  Why, 
that  any  revelation  is  unnecessary  and  impossible,  —  at 
least,  that  it  can  never  be  recognised  as  such,  though  we 
may  wish  to  believe  in  it ;  —  that  the  revealed  doctrine  can 
make  no  addition  to  our  knowledge  or  our  hopes ;  —  that,  if 
it  contains  any  thing  more  than  the  law  written  in  our 
own  hearts,  it  cannot  be  of  divine  origin  ;  and,  if  it  be  per- 
fectly coincident  with  that  law,  it  is  useless,  and  can  in  no 
proper  sense  be  called  a  revelation; — that,  although  the 
conception  of  a  miracle  is  possible,  a  miraculous  event  can 
never  be  known  as  such,  from  the  want  of  a  sufficient  test ; 
—  and  that  a  revelation  by  means  of  such  events  could  not 
be  addressed  to  any  persons,  but  those  who  had  lost  even 
the  desire  to  comply  with  the  demands  of  conscience,  and 
its  usefulness  even  to  them  would  cease,  when  the  moral 
sense  was  once  awakened.  Such  is  the  result  of  a  system 
of  philosophy,  that  sets  up  the  entire  supremacy  of  the  "  a 
priori  conceptions  of  pure  reason,"  and  of  demonstrative 
reasoning  founded  upon  them,  —  thus  erecting  a  metaphys- 
ical tribunal,  before  which  all  faith  in  God,  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, in  any  revelation,  is  to  be  brought  for  trial,  to  be 
modified  or  rejected  at  will.  The  sophism  in  respect  to 
revealed  religion  is  precisely  the  same  with  that  which  we 
have  attempted  to  expose  in  the  province  of  Natural  The- 
ology. Beginning  with  the  assumption,  that  moral  evi- 
dence in  such  a  case  is  wholly  unsatisfactory  and  decep- 
tive ;  and,  seeking  for  demonstration  where,  from  the  nature 
of  the  case  and  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  it  cannot  be 
obtained,  they  find  it  not,  and  consequently  declare,  that 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  253 

man's  faith  is  vain,  and  all  religious  belief,  properly  so  call- 
ed, is  a  mere  delusion.  Of  course,  a  revelation  attested  by- 
miracles  is  an  external  fact,  and  must  be  proved,  if  at  all, 
by  testimony  and  experience.  But  these  are  sources  only 
of  moral  reasoning ;  and,  as  such  a  proof,  even  when  car- 
ried to  the  highest  extent,  is  declared  to  be  insufficient  to 
establish  the  belief  in  a  God,  so  it  cannot  confirm  our  faith 
in  a  revelation  of  God  to  men.  In  the  latter  case,  un- 
fortunately, demonstration  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  to  be 
impossible,  and,  therefore,  nothing  remains  but  to  renounce 
our  faith  in  revelation  altogether. 

This  is  but  a  single  specimen  of  the  arrogant  manner  in 
which  the  claims  of  religious  faith  are  treated  by  those  wri- 
ters, who  assume  that  all  theology  is  but  a  province  of  phi- 
losophy, but  one  speculation  among  many  others,  all  of 
which  must  be  brought  to  their  tribunal,  and  judged  by  the 
standard  of  their  metaphysical  theory.  In  the  flood  of  phi- 
losophical systems  in  Germany,  the  publication  of  which 
followed  the  daring  innovations  of  Kant,  many  other  exam- 
ples might  be  found  of  an  equally  summary  and  destructive 
treatment  of  the  doctrines  both  of  natural  and  revealed  re- 
ligion. The  infidel  movement  in  that  country,  hardly  second 
in  extent  and  importance  to  that  which  the  Encyclopedists 
commenced  in  France,  if  it  did  not  take  its  rise  among  the 
philosophers,  certainly  borrowed  from  them  its  arms,  its 
general  aspect,  and  its  influence.  The  infidel  publications 
are  saturated  with  the  terminology,  the  forms,  and  the  doc- 
trines of  the  modern  schools  of  metaphysics,  to  an  extent 
that  makes  them  hardly  intelligible  to  one,  who  has  not  a 
previous  knowledge  of  this  new  philosophical  jargon. 

We  know  that  an  attempt  is  made,  to  trace  the  commence- 
ment of  these  infidel  speculations  in  Germany,  beyond  the 
philosophers  of  that  country,  to  the  influence  of  the  Eng- 
lish deists,  as  they  are  termed,  —  to  the  writings  of  Collins, 
22 


254  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  I    THE    UNION    OF 

Tindal,  Chubb,  and  Morgan.  Those  who  can  find  in  the 
speculations  referred  to,  any  of  the  characteristics  of  the 
English  tone  of  thought,  any  traces  of  similarity  in  argument 
and  doctrine  between  the  two  classes  of  writers,  must  be 
gifted  with  greater  powers  of  perception  than  are  usual,  or, 
—  what  is  far  more  likely,  —  with  a  predisposition  to  find  or 
see  nothing  to  the  prejudice  of  German  metaphysics.  The 
purpose  of  such  a  strange  assertion  is  to  trace  the  root  of  the 
evil,  not  to  its  home  among  those  modern  speculations,  in 
which  it  took  its  rise  and  its  peculiar  aspect,  but  to  another 
country,  and  to  a  class  of  unbelievers,  whose  errors  may 
with  some  show  of  reason  be  attributed  to  the  philosophy  of 
Locke.  It  is  the  singular  fate  of  this  last-mentioned  philos- 
opher, whose  writings,  more  than  any  others  of  the  class  to 
which  they  belong,  are  pervaded  with  the  Christian  spirit, 
and  devoted  to  a  defence  of  the  Christian  faith,  to  be  made 
accountable  for  nearly  all  the  speculative  errors  and  infidel 
opinions,  which  have  been  broached  since  his  time.  It  is 
not  enough,  that  the  skepticism  of  Hume,  and  the  sensual- 
ism of  Condillac  are  laid  to  his  charge,  but  he  must  be  made 
accountable  also,  by  implication  at  least,  for  the  extravagan- 
zas of  a  set  of  German  infidels  in  our  own  day  ;  though  it 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  stronger  contrast,  in  point  of 
thought,  expression  and  doctrine,  than  that  which  exists  be- 
tween their  speculations  and  the  writings  of  the  father  of 
English  philosophy.  The  idle  calumny,  which  imputes  to 
him  the  origin  of  the  debasing  theory,  entertained  by  the 
French  sensual  school  of  the  last  century,  has  been  refuted 
a  hundred  times,  and  deserves  no  further  notice.  Even  the 
assertion,  that  Hume  borrowed  his  principles  from  Locke,  if 
understood  to  mean  that  the  philosophy  of  the  latter  espe- 
cially favors  the  skepticism  of  the  former,  or  leads  to  it  by 
necessary  implication,  so  that  Hume  became  an  infidel  only 
because  he  studied  Locke,  and  not  in  spite  of  such  study,  is 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  255 

wholly  untrue.  The  subtile  and  wary  skeptic,  whose  enter- 
prise was  not  to  build,  but  to  destroy,  —  who  intended  to 
confute  the  philosophers  on  their  own  ground,  founded  his 
reasonings  on  what  was  the  popular  philosophy  of  his  day. 
He  borrowed  his  principles  from  the  "  Essay  on  the  Hu- 
man Understanding,"  just  as  he  would  have  borrowed 
them,  if  he  had  lived  in  our  times,  from  the  speculations  of 
Kant  and  Cousin.  A  skeptic  by  nature  and  temperament, 
and  not  by  education  or  by  consequence  of  opinions  im- 
bibed from  others,  his  writings  were  intended  to  be,  not  a 
continuation  or  a  development  of  Locke's  philosophy,  but  a 
refutation  of  it.  He  was  not  half  so  much  indebted  to  his 
English  predecessor,  as  Spinoza  was  to  Descartes  ;  but 
who  thinks  of  charging  upon  the  father  of  French  philoso- 
phy the  atheism  or  pantheism  of  the  infidel  Jew  ? 

But  we  protest  against  mingling  the  doctrines  of  theology 
with  any  metaphysical  speculations,  —  against  identifying 
the  cause  of  religious  truth  with  the  defence  of  any  human 
system.  It  matters  not  whether  Locke  or  Descartes,  Spi- 
noza or  Kant,  Cousin  or  Schelling,  be  the  individual  se- 
lected, through  whose  theories  we  are  to  attack,  defend,  or 
modify  man's  faith  in  things  which  are  not  of  this  world. 
The  mixture  is  of  two  incongruous  things,  and  nothing  can 
result  from  it  but  a  bastard  compound,  which  will  have  all 
the  defects,  but  none  of  the  excellences,  of  either  ingre- 
dient. In  calling  for  a  separation,  nothing  more  is  claimed 
for  theology,  than  is  granted  by  universal  consent  to  the 
other  sciences.  Why  is  the  theologian  only  to  be  followed 
with  the  constant  accusation  of  being  deluded  by  the  sen- 
sual system,  when  he  simply  opens  his  eyes  upon  the  uni- 
verse around  him,  and  reasons  upon  the  information  afford- 
ed by  the  senses  ?  Why  not  accuse  the  naturalist,  the 
astronomer,  the  artist  of  the  same  thing  ?  These  provinces 
of  science  are  kept  as  distinct  as  possible  from  theory  and 


256  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  I    THE    UNION    OF 

pure  speculation,  and  are  made  to  consist  of  observed  facts, 
and  immediate  deductions  from  those  facts.  Metaphysical 
systems  are  contrived  from  time  to  time,  with  a  view  to 
cover  the  whole  field  of  knowledge  ;  but  the  authors  of 
them  do  not  attempt  directly  to  change  the  methods,  modi- 
fy the  principles,  or  do  away  with  the  results  of  the  induc- 
tive sciences.  They  are  known  to  carry  with  them  the 
habits  of  mind  peculiar  to  their  profession,  —  what  Bacon 
expressively  calls  "  the  smoke  and  tarnish  of  the  furnace"; 
the  tendency  to  generalize  rapidly,  to  make  sweeping  inno- 
vations, to  form  new  and  entire  theories,  unchecked  by  the 
presence  of  determinate  and  admitted  facts,  which  in  other 
branches  of  knowledge  oppose  an  effectual  barrier  to  the 
license  of  innovation  and  system-making.  Theology  has 
its  facts,  also,  the  most  real  and  momentous  of  all.  The 
beacon  light  of  religious  truth  burns  clear  and  steadily  in 
its  fixed  and  elevated  position  ;  while  the  ignes  fatui  of 
philosophical  speculation  are  glancing  about  through  brake, 
morass,  and  thicket,  too  often  indicating  the  presence  of 
miasmata  from  swamps,  or  poisonous  exhalations  from 
graveyards. 

Those  who  talk  so  much  of  the  philosophy  of  religion, 
and  of  the  necessity  that  it  should  keep  pace  with  the  con- 
stant advancement  of  the  human  mind,  either  use  words 
without  any  meaning  attached  to  them,  or  else  they  con- 
found two  perfectly  distinct  things,  —  religious  progress  in 
the  individual  soul,  and  the  improvement  of  theology  as  a 
science.  The  former  is  possible  to  an  unlimited  extent. 
The  whole  of  human  life  is  a  probation,  the  law  of  which 
is  progress.  But  the  only  rational  conception  of  Christian 
Theology  is  that  of  something  more  fixed  and  durable  than 
the  everlasting  hills.  The  great  truth  of  the  being  of  a 
God,  the  great  law  of  the  Scriptures,  lie  there  as  standards, 
as  ultimate  points,  beyond  which  there  is  no  advancement, 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  257 

and  from  which  there  is  no  appeal.  An  individual  may 
come  to  have  a  more  perfect  knowledge  of  the  relations 
which  connect  him  to  the  Deity ;  though  even  here  the  im- 
provement is  rather  of  the  heart,  than  of  the  intellect.  But 
there  are  no  discoveries  to  be  made  respecting  the  Divine 
nature,  in  the  same  sense  as  we  speak  of  discoveries  in  hu- 
man science.  "  Who  can  by  searching  find  out  God  ?  Or 
who  can  understand  the  Almighty  to  perfection  ?  "  We 
can  take  away  the  conception  of  a  God,  and  substitute  an 
abstract  idea,  or  a  block  of  wood, —  it  matters  not  which, — 
in  its  place  ;  but  we  cannot  amend  or  enlarge  that  concep- 
tion, as  it  exists  in  a  mind  of  ordinary  powers  and  cultiva- 
tion. There  is  no  progress  possible  beyond  monotheism, 
just  as  there  was  a  progress  from  Fetichism  to  polytheism, 
and  from  that  to  the  true  doctrine  of  one  God. 

In  like  manner,  the  Scriptures  form  an  ultimate  tribunal 
in  Christian  Theology.  Questions  about  their  interpretation 
may  arise,  but  the  sense,  when  ascertained,  is  admitted  to 
be  absolute  and  decisive.  Some  persons  may  reject  their 
authority ;  they  may  make  the  same  discovery  as  Tindal, 
the  English  Deist,  that  Christianity  is  "  as  old  as  the  crea- 
tion." But  it  does  not  follow  from  such  a  discovery,  that 
they  have  made  any  progress  in  theology  ;  they  have  simply 
ceased  to  be  Christians.  To  unite  theology  with  metaphysics 
is  to  break  away  from  the  two  great  anchors  of  religious 
faith,  and  then  to  drift  about  at  random  with  a  science,  that 
acknowledges  no  restraint,  has  no  fixed  principles,  and  has 
never  found  a  stay  or  a  resting-place.  Not  all  the  authority 
ascribed  to  intuitive  conceptions,  not  all  the  pride  of  demon- 
strative reasoning  founded  upon  them,  will  be  sufficient  to 
check  the  frequency  of  errors  and  fluctuations,  or  to  afford 
a  fixed  basis  for  future  inquiry.  The  subject  of  investiga- 
tion is  too  vast,  the  method  of  procedure  too  ill-determined, 
the  idea  of  the  results  to  be  gained  is  too  vague,  to  allow  us 
22* 


258  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

to  hope,  that  speculative  philosophy  will  ever  advance  with 
a  firmer  step,  or  to  a  better  purpose,  than  it  has  done 
through  all  past  time.  In  the  future  as  in  the  past,  meta- 
physical demonstrations  will  be  found  to  prove  one  thing 
with  a  Descartes,  and  directly  the  opposite  thing  with  a 
Kant.  The  attempt  is  equally  absurd  and  impious  to  break 
down  the  landmarks  of  religious  faith,  and  to  involve  the 
dearest  hopes  of  mankind  in  the  uncertain  and  shifting  for- 
tunes of  such  an  enterprise. 

Some  persons  are  not  content  with  the  proposed  union 
between  the  two  subjects  of  contemplation,  but  claim  entire 
supremacy  for  human  science.  According  to  their  theory, 
there  are  many  stages  of  progress  for  the  human  intellect, 
and  men  pass  on  from  religion  to  philosophy,  as  they  do 
from  barbarism  to  civilization.  The  spontaneous  but  rude 
development  of  the  religious  principle  is  followed  by  the 
more  vigorous  and  sure  growth  of  reflection',  and  philoso- 
phy becomes  "  the  highest  and  last  development  of  human 
nature,  the  final  accomplishment  of  human  thought."  But 
not  to  appear  too  presumptuous,  not  to  shock  the  feelings  of 
mankind  too  much,  philosophy  is  represented  as  tolerant  and 
liberal ;  as  superseding  religion,  it  is  true,  in  the  minds  of 
the  cultivated  and  reflecting  classes,  but  continuing  to  re- 
spect it  as  an  imperfect  likeness  of  itself,  in  the  bulk  of 
mankind.  These  views  may  be  best  illustrated  by  a  quota- 
tion from  Cousin,  in  whose  lectures  they  are  ably  and  elo- 
quently set  forth.  The  extract  is  a  choice  one,  and  we 
commend  it  to  the  particular  attention  of  the  Christian  ad- 
mirers of  the  great  Eclectic. 

"  Philosophy,  in  the  great  body  of  the  people,  exists  under  the 
primitive,  profoundly  impressive,  and  venerable  form  of  religion 
and  of  worship.  Christianity  is  the  philosophy  of  the  people.  He 
who  now  addresses  you  sprang  from  the  people  and  from  Christi- 
anity ;  and  I  trust  you  will  always  recognise  this,  in  my  profound 


METAPHYSICS    AND    THEOLOGY.    •  259 

and  tender  respect  for  all  that  is  of  the  people  and  of  Christianity. 
Philosophy  is  patient ;  she  knows  what  was  the  coarse  of  events  in 
former  generations,  and  she  is  full  of  confidence  in  the  future  ; 
happy,  in  seeing  the  great  bulk  of  mankind  in  the  arms  of  Chris- 
tianity, she  offers,  with  modest  kindness,  her  hand  to  Chris- 
tianity,  to  assist  her  in  ascending  to  a  yet  loftier  elevation.^ ^  * 

Admirable  condescension!  M.  Cousin  stands  forth  as 
the  self-appointed  representative  of  all  philosophy,  and 
kindly  patronizes  Christianity.  But  we  must  save  our  feel- 
ings by  speaking  in  a  straight-forward  way.  If  the  ab- 
surdity and  egregious  self-conceit,  which  are  so  conspicuous 
in  this  passage,  did  not  throw  a  strong  light  on  the  real 
value  and  probable  influence  of  this  writer's  speculations,  it 
might  be  necessary  to  call  attention  to  their  infidel  charac- 
ter. But  they  may  now  be  left  to  find  their  own  level. 
The  cause  of  religious  truth  has  nothing  to  fear  or  to  hope 
from  such  patrons,  or  from  such  assailants. 

In  France,  the  popularity  of  Cousin's  philosophy  has  su- 
perseded that  of  Condillac,  and  many  imagine,  that  under 
its  influence,  a  reaction  has  taken  place  in  favor  of  religion, 
against  the  materialism  and  the  infidelity  of  the  last  age. 
Even  if  we  were  ignorant  of  the  facts,  there  would  be 
good  reason  to  suspect  the  reality,  and  the  pure  character, 
of  a  religious  movement  produced  by  such  a  cause,  and 
conducted  by  such  a  guide.  "  Non  tali  auxilio,  nee  defen- 
sorihus  istisy  But  we  are  able  to  ofler  some  direct  testimo- 
ny respecting  the  true  nature  of  this  religious  reaction.  A 
recent  number  of  the  "  Journal  des  Dehats,''^  the  ablest  and 
most  influential  newspaper  in  France,  contains  an  interest- 
ing letter  from  one  of  the  editors  to  the  Bishop  of  Chartres, 
in  reply  to  a  severe  censure  which  that  prelate  had  passed 

*  "  Ella  se  contente  de  lui  tendre  doucement  la  main,  et  de  I'aider  a 
s'elever  plus  haut  encore.  {Attention  marqudc  dans  Vauditoire)  "  — 
Cours  de  VHistoire  de  la  Philosophie  :  Deuxitme  Legon. 


260  SUBJECT    CONTINUED  :    THE    UNION    OF 

upon  an  article  on  the  state  of  the  French  church.  From 
this  letter,  dated  the  20th  of  December  last,  we  translate  a 
few  paragraphs,  which  were  written,  it  is  true,  for  the  me- 
ridian of  Paris  ;  but  they  may  not  be  wholly  inapplicable 
further  west. 

"  For  some  years  past,  we  have  heard  much  talk  about  the  reli- 
gious reaction.  It  is  proclaimed  from  the  house-tops  ;  it  is  an- 
nounced in  all  the  pulpits,  and  in  all  the  books.  But  when  we 
begin  to  search  after  this  strange  phenomenon,  what  do  we  find  ? 
We  enter  pretty  little  churches,  with  gilded  ceilings,  well  warmed 
and  carpeted,  where  one  finds  himself  too  comfortably  placed  on 
earth  to  be  able  to  spend  a  thought  on  heaven.  We  hear  the  Credo 
sung  with  a  waltz  accompaniment,  and  dancing  tunes  played  at  the 
elevation  of  the  Host.  If  a  sermon  is  preached,  the  speaker  feels 
obliged  to  disguise  the  objects  of  worship  before  presenting  them 
to  us,  —  to  cover  them  up  under  all  the  frippery  required  by  the 
taste  of  the  age  ;  and  how  can  it  be  expected,  that  preachers  should 
prove  ihe  divine  character  of  that,  which  they  themselves  are  striv- 
ing to  render  common  and  secular.  Think  you,  that  they  talk  to 
us  about  the  Gospel,  and  about  Christian  morals  ?  No  ;  no  such 
thing.  They  preach  about  Pythagoras,  and  Epicurus,  and  Spino- 
za ;  or  they  have  something  to  say  about  the  invasions  of  the  Goths, 
borrowing  prosy  remarks  from  writers  on  the  philosophy  of  histo- 
ry. We  go  away  from  the  church  asking  ourselves,  what  we  have 
to  do  with  Epicurus,  and  whether  this  is  what  is  meant  by  a  reli- 
gious reaction. 

"  We  find  a  new  class  of  Christians  springing  up  around  us  in 
the  fashionable  and  literary  world,  who  make  a  parade  of  their 
melancholy  and  their  religious  faith  in  halting  verses,  and  prate 
about  the  Bhagavad  Gita  and  the  Zendavista,  and  the  other  topics 
of  those  lectures  on  philosophy,  which  are  designed  for  people  who 
wish  to  talk  about  every  thing  in  general  and  nothing  in  particular. 
And  these  insipid  persons,  incapable  alike  of  skepticism  or  belief, 
are  constantly  wearying  us  with  harangues  about  the  religious 
reaction. 

"  You  will  not  suspect  me,  Sir,  of  the  presumption  and  bad 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  261 

taste  of  wishing  to  read  the  clergy  a  lecture  on  theology.  I  do 
but  give  you  the  impression  of  those  who  live  in  this  secular  world, 
when  I  say,  that  perhaps  the  church  was  never  in  a  more  danger- 
ous situation  than  it  is  at  present.  The  greatest  proof  of  the 
strength  of  Catholicism  is,  that  it  is  able  to  resist,  not  an  assault, 
Eot  a  war,  but  the  peace,  the  conciliatory  measures,  the  universal 
toleration,  with  which  it  is  surrounded.  We  ask  only  for  faith  of 
one  kind  or  another;  we  accept  every  thing,  and  we  would  invent 
a  religion,  rather  than  be  without  one  altogether.  It  behoves  the 
members  of  the  church  to  organize  and  turn  to  profit  this  necessi- 
ty of  believing  something,  which  is  now  appearing  amongst  us, 
and,  above  all,  to  arrest  it  in  its  almost  irresistible  inclination  to- 
wards mysticism. 

"  The  priests  have  not  understood  this  condition  of  things.  They 
have  mistaken  this  readiness  to  accept  any  faith  for  a  religious  re- 
action. The  misfortune  of  Christianity  is,  that  they  no  longer 
fight  against  it ;  it  is  embalmed,  it  is  sanctified  ;  it  is  canonized 
like  a  saint.  But  you  know  better  than  I,  Sir,  that  saints  are  only 
canonized  after  their  death.  It  is  dangerous  to  allow  one's  self  to 
be  made  a  relic  of.  The  priests  have  gone  to  sleep,  trusting  to  this 
perfidious  calm.  Having  hardly  escaped  from  the  terrible  attack 
of  Voltaire,  they  hailed  what  was  only  disgust  and  weariness  at 
materialism  as  a  disposition  to  return  to  religion.  In  their  eyes, 
every  one  who  was  a  spiritualist  became  a  religious  man  ;  every 
one  who  repudiated  the  EncydopSdie,  became  a  Christian.  In  their 
eagerness  to  rescue  all  minds  from  the  philosophy  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, they  accepted  professions  of  faith,  without  being  at  all  rigid 
in  respect  to  rites  and  doctrines.  They  opened  the  gates  to  reli- 
gious liberalism.  They  made  a  breach,  and  through  this  breach 
have  entered  pell-mell,  pietism,  sentimentalism,  symbolism,  and  all 
sorts  of  Germanism.  They  no  longer  preach  upon  morals  and 
doctrines,  but  upon  Christian  philosophy,  and  all  kinds  of  histori- 
cal and  assthetical  generalities.  At  the  present  time,  we  want 
nothing  better  than  religious  belief ;  but,  if  we  must  accept,  as  ar- 
ticles of  faith,  all  that  we  hear  from  the  pulpit,  and.  as  words  of 
the  Gospel,  all  the  pitiable  rhapsodies  and  contemptible  contests 
about  words,  which  are  published  by  those  who  call  themselves 


262  SUBJECT  continued:  the  union  of 

your  organs,  no  wonder  that  our  faith  wavers  and  our  hearts  in- 
cline to  doubt." 

This  is  a  lively  picture  of  the  confusion  that  results,  when 
an  erratic  speculative  philosophy  assumes  the  name  and 
garb  of  religion,  without  any  of  its  spirit,  and  substitutes  its 
own  vague  and  unmeaning  generalities  in  place  of  the  vital 
truths  of  Natural  Theology,  and  the  doctrines  of  the  Gos- 
pel. It  remains  to  be  seen,  whether  the  study  of  the  same 
writers  and  the  prevalence  of  the  same  tastes  will  ever  pro- 
duce a  counterpart  to  this  state  of  things  on  our  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  One  security  against  such  an  evil  consists  in  the 
fact,  that  the  antecedent  circumstances  in  the  two  cases  are 
different.  We  are  not  recovering  from  the  prolonged  tor- 
por of  materialism  and  infidelity,  in  order  to  be  thrown  by 
a  reaction  into  the  wilds  of  a  mystical  philosophy,  and  a 
heated,  vague,  and  unsettled  faith.  It  is  an  idle  task  to 
preach  against  sensualism  and  the  empirical  philosophy  to 
the  descendants  of  the  Puritans  ;  it  is  merely  apeing  the 
manners  and  the  sentiments  of  a  few  French  declaimers, 
whose  words  have  no  applicability  or  meaning  for  the  west- 
ern world.  There  are  no  admirers  of  Condillac  among  us  ; 
and,  if  there  are  a  few  imitators  of  the  Baron  d'  Holbach, 
their  errors  were  not  caused  by  the  prevalence  of  one  sys- 
tem of  philosophy,  nor  will  they  be  converted  by  the  intro- 
duction of  another.  Metaphysical  arguments  will  not  cure 
that  blindness  and  insensibility  of  heart  and  intellect,  of 
which  ignorance  and  heedlessness  are  the  primary  and  the 
sustaining  causes.  Instead  of  calling  upon  such  men  to 
close  their  eyes  and  ears,  and  distrust  the  information  given 
by  their  senses,  for  fear  they  should  be  deluded  by  empiri- 
cism, or  some  other  philosophical  bugbear,  rather  bid  them 
open  their  minds  and  hearts  to  the  sights  and  sounds  of 
creation,  and  hear  and  see  everywhere  proofs  of  the  being 


METAPHYSICS  AND  THEOLOGY.  263 

of  a  God.    Preach  the  Gospel  to  them  instead  of  metaphys- 
ical speculations,  —  remembering  the  pregnant  aphorism  of^ 
Bacon  ;  "  As  to  seek  philosophy  in  divinity  is  to  seek  the 
dead  amongst  the  living,  so  to  seek  divinity  in  philosophy  is 
to  seek  the  living  amongst  the  dead." 


264  BERKELEY   AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


VII. 

BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.* 

Bishop  Berkeley  is  remembered  on  this  side  of  the  At- 
lantic chiefly  from  his  benevolent  scheme  of  founding  a 
college  in  Bermuda,  to  assist  in  the  propagation  of  Christi- 
anity among  the  Indians.  In  the  furtherance  of  this  pro- 
ject, he  resided  about  two  years  at  Newport,  Rhode  Island, 
and  his  benefactions  to  Yale  College  and  the  clergy  in  his 
vicinity  displayed  the  deep  interest  he  took  in  the  cause  of 
education  and  religion  in  this  country,  and  the  catholic 
spirit  that  prompted  him  to  aid  an  institution  directed  by 
men,  who  dissented  from  his  views  of  doctrine  and  church 
government.  His  philosophical  works  are  not  generally 
known,  though  the  allusions  to  them  are  frequent  in  the 
writings  of  other  and  more  popular  metaphysicians.  Men 
are  disposed  to  accept  upon  trust  the  reputation  of  that 
class  of  writers,  to  which  he  belonged,  or  to  glean  a  scanty 
knowledge  of  their  doctrines  from  publications  of  the  pres- 
ent day.  Here,  they  are  alluded  to  or  quoted  for  the  pur- 
pose of  censure  or  refutation,  and  the  view  which  the  read- 
er gains  is  distorted  and  partial.  Few  authors  are  more 
talked  about  and  less  studied,  than  Locke,  Berkeley,  and 
Hume. 

*From  the  Christian  Examiner  for  July,  1838. 

The  Works  of  George  Berkeley,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  Cloyne.  To 
which  are  added  an  Account  of  his  Life,  and  several  of  his  Letters  to 
Thomas  Prior,  Esq.,  Dean  Gervais,  Mr.  Pope,  &c.  London.  1837. 
Bvo. 


BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  265 

But,  to  estimate  correctly  the  reputed  discoveries  and 
new  systems  advanced  in  our  own  times,  reference  must 
occasionally  be  had  to  older  works,  that  novel  expressions 
may  not  be  confounded  with  original  views,  nor  the  mere 
denial  of  opinions  once  received  be  considered  as  the  pro- 
gress of  truth.  To  expose  impudent  quackery  in  science, 
to  strip  false  pretenders  of  their  borrowed  plumes,  by  re- 
storing stolen  property  to  the  rightful  owners,  is  an  attempt, 
that,  however  conducive  to  the  ends  of  justice,  may  not 
seem  to  tend  equally  to  the  advancement  of  knowledge. 
An  advance  in  philosophy,  however  made,  is  more  popular 
than  a  retreat.  But,  if  the  contemplated  movement  be  only 
destructive  in  its  character,  aiming  to  undo  the  labors  of 
others,  and  to  raise  under  a  different  shape  the  antiquated 
absurdities,  which  were  once  effectually  exposed,  then  the 
enterprise  of  the  historian  of  philosophy  assumes  a  more 
important  aspect.  He  may  wisely  fall  back  for  a  century, 
to  avoid  a  threatened  retreat  to  the  age,  when  philosophical 
speculation  was  in  its  infancy,  and  formed  the  amusement 
of  the  ingenious  and  the  skeptical,  rather  than  the  business 
of  the  learned.  We  believe,  that  it  may  be  made  the  guide 
of  life,  and  the  handmaid  of  religion  ;  and  there  can  be  no 
better  exemplification  of  the  remark,  than  may  be  found  in 
the  life  and  works  of  Bishop  Berkeley. 

From  the  mention  made  of  this  distinguished  prelate  in 
the  writings  of  his  contemporaries,  one  would  almost  sup- 
pose, that  all  the  world  was  in  a  conspiracy  to  praise  him. 
Occupying  a  station  peculiarly  exposed  to  suspicion  and 
dislike,  that  of  an  Episcopalian  Bishop  in  Ireland,  he  ac- 
quired from  the  men  of  all  parties  and  ranks  a  degree  of 
respect  and  influence,  equalled  only  by  that  of  Swift,  and 
far  better  deserved.  The  witty  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  gain- 
ed his  popularity  by  an  accident,  that  identified  for  a  time 
his  own  selfish  views  in  politics  with  measures  tending  to 
23 


266  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

the  welfare  of  his  countrymen.  Berkeley  acquired  favor 
by  frequent  sacrifices  of  private  interest  to  schemes  of 
general  beneficence,  by  sound  advice  recommended  by  its 
tolerant  and  generous  spirit  to  all  sects,  and  by  studying  the 
public  good  in  projects  too  far  reaching  to  be  practical  in 
that  age,  but  reserved  for  the  enlarged  experience  of  our 
own  times  to  carry  into  effect.  He  aided  in  preserving 
peace  in  Ireland  during  the  rebellion  of  1745,  by  timely 
publications  addressed  to  the  Catholics  of  his  diocese,  and 
to  their  spiritual  directors  throughout  the  country.  In  re- 
ply, the  Romish  clergy  assured  him,  "  that  they  are  de- 
termined to  comply  wiih  every  particular  recommended  in 
his  address,  to  the  utmost  of  their  power."  They  add, 
that  "  in  every  page  it  contains  a  proof  of  the  author's  ex- 
tensive charity  ;  his  views  are  only  towards  the  public 
good  ;  the  means  he  prescribeth  are  easily  complied  with  ; 
and  his  manner  of  treating  persons  in  their  circumstances 
so  very  singular,  that  they  plainly  show  the  good  man,  the 
polite  gentleman,  and  the  true  patriot."  Perhaps  there  are 
those  now  living,  who  may  profit  from  a  lesson  in  tolera- 
tion given  by  an  English  Bishop,  of  the  Tory  party,  in  the 
last  century. 

The  fascination  of  Berkeley's  private  manners  aided  the 
power  of  his  moral  character,  in  acquiring  the  friendship 
of  distinguished  individuals.  Promotion  in  the  church  was 
thrust  upon  him  by  enthusiastic  patrons,  though  not  so  fre- 
quently as  he  contrived  to  evade  or  decline  it.  The  uni- 
versal satirist  changed  the  burden  of  his  theme  to  praise, 
and  ascribed 

"  To  Berkeley,  every  virtue  under  heaven." 

Warmly  attached  from  sentiment  and  conviction  to  the 
leading  party  in  the  state,  whose  principles  and  measures 
he  actively  supported  with  his  pen,  he  never  lost  the  pri- 
vate friendship  of  his  political  opponents,  nor  was  he   ever 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  267 

compelled,  in  matters  relating  to  politics,  to  defend  himself 
against  assaults  in  print.  The  moral  beauty  of  his  life  si- 
lenced calumny,  and  deprived  envy  of  its  power  to  wound. 
Swift  laughed  at  the  m.etaphysical  vagaries  of  his  friend, 
but,  contrary  to  his  usual  practice,  the  ridicule  was  gentle, 
and  had  no  infusion  of  bitterness  or  scorn.  Addison  made 
converts  among  his  Whig  friends  to  his  love  for  Berkeley  ; 
and  the  turbulent  Jacobite,  Atterbury,  after  an  interview 
that  he  had  solicited,  gave  his  opinion,  that  "  so  much 
understanding,  so  much  knowledge,  so  much  innocence, 
and  such  humility,  I  did  not  think  had  been  the  portion  of 
any  but  angels,  till  I  saw  this  gentleman." 

The  accomplishments  of  this  remarkable  man  were  more 
various,  than  are  often  found  united  in  an  individual.  A 
profound  classical  scholar,  the  quiet  Platonism  of  his  meta- 
physical writings  attests  his  constant  study  of  the  master 
mind  in  Grecian  Philosophy.  His  acquaintance  with  the 
exact  sciences  enabled  him  to  maintain  a  controversy  with 
the  ablest  mathematicians  of  his  time.  A  love  for  the  fine 
arts,  which  he  cultivated  during  his  travels  in  France  and 
Italy,  added  to  the  graces  of  his  conversation,  and  pro- 
moted the  union  of  a  rich  fancy  and  an  elegant  imagina- 
tion with  the  severer  qualities  of  his  written  style.  On 
a  single  occasion  only,  he  tried  his  abilities  in  verse,  and 
the  attempt  was  inspired  by  his  heroic  scheme  of  benevo- 
lence relating  to  this  country.  Recollecting  that  the  lines 
were  written  a  century  ago,  the  last  stanza  seems  to  pre- 
sent again  the  old  combination  of  the  poetical  and  pro- 
phetic character. 

"  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way  j 
The  four  first  acts  already  past, 
A  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day  ; 
Time's  noblest  offspring  is  the  last." 

But  of  all  the  traits  in  Berkeley's  character,  his  disinterest- 


268 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS   PHILOSOPHY. 


edness  and  wide-reaching  philanthropy  are  the  most  ap- 
parent and  the  most  delightful.  He  carried  the  former 
quality,  indeed,  to  such  excess,  that  his  sanity  became  sus- 
pected, and  when  the  "  Minute  Philosopher"  appeared,  his 
friend  Sherlock  carried  a  copy  of  it  to  Queen  Caroline, 
that  she  might  judge,  whether  such  a  work  could  be  the 
production  of  a  disordered  intellect.  One  is  forcibly  re- 
minded by  this  story  of  the  similar  incident  related  of  the 
Greek  tragedian.  At  the  age  of  thirty-nine,  he  had  at- 
tained, almost  against  his  will,  a  situation  that  was  truly 
enviable.  In  the  Church,  he  occupied  the  Deanery  of 
Derry,  an  office  worth  £  1100  a  year.  His  reputation  as  a 
philosopher  and  a  man  of  letters  and  varied  accomplish- 
ments was  excelled  by  none  of  his  contemporaries.  With 
a  keen  relish  for  society,  which  he  was  eminently  fitted  to 
adorn,  his  company  was  eagerly  sought  in  circles  most  dis- 
tinguished for  rank  and  learning.  He  was  the  leader  in  a 
small  knot  of  literary  men,  whom  the  Princess  of  Wales, 
afterwards  Queen  Caroline,  delighted  to  draw  together  at 
her  evening  parties.  She  had  a  strong  penchant  for  meta- 
physics, and  discussions  were  raised  on  kindred  subjects 
for  her  amusement.  Clarke,  Hoadley,  and  Sherlock  were 
usually  present.  The  first  took  the  lead  in  opposition,  and 
was  followed  by  Hoadly,  while  Sherlock  warmly  seconded 
Berkeley.  At  this  period,  he  formed  a  project  to  resign 
all  his  preferments  and  prospects  in  the  church,  and  to 
exile  himself  from  his  country,  in  order  to  found  a  college 
in  Bermuda  for  the  instruction  of  Indian  youth.  He  was 
himself  to  be  the  President  of  the  new  institution,  with 
the  moderate  salary  of  ^100  a  year.  He  advocated  the 
scheme  with  so  much  eloquence  and  address,  that  he  per- 
suaded three  Fellows  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  to  ex- 
change all  their  opportunities  at  home,  for  the  sake  of  be- 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  269 

coming  teachers  in  the  new  college,  with  a  yearly  stipend 
of  £  40  each. 

He  published  the  outlines  of  his  scheme,  in  a  pamphlet 
form,  in  1725.  The  patronage  of  government  was  neces- 
sary to  the  execution  of  the  plan,  and,  in  order  to  obtain  it, 
he  passed  over  from  Ireland  to  England,  carrying  a  letter 
of  introduction  from  Dean  Swift  to  Lord  Carteret,  then  lord 
lieutenant  of  Ireland.  The  letter  is  so  characteristic,  that 
we  are  tempted  to  give  an  extract. 

"  There  is  a  gentleman  of  this  kingdom  just  gone  for  England  ;  it 
is  Dr.  George  Berkeley,  Dean  of  Derry,  the  best  preferment  among 
us,  being  worth  about  £  1100  a  year.  He  is  an  absolute  philos- 
opher with  regard  to  money,  titles,  and  power  ;  and  for  three  years 
past,  has  been  struck  with  a  notion  of  founding  a  university  at 
Bermuda,  by  a  charter  from  the  crown.  He  hath  seduced  several 
of  the  hopefulest  young  clergymen  and  others  here,  many  of  them 
well  provided  for,  and  all  of  them  in  the  fairest  way  of  prefer- 
ment. But  in  England  his  conquests  are  greater,  and  I  doubt  will 
spread  very  far  this  winter.  He  showed  me  a  little  tract,  which 
he  designs  to  publish,  and  there  your  excellency  will  see  his 
whole  scheme  of  a  life  academico-philosophical  (I  shall  make  you 
remember  what  you  were)  of  a  college  founded  for  Indian  scholars 
and  missionaries,  where  he  most  exorbitantly  proposeth  a  whole 
hundred  pounds  a  year  for  himself,  forty  pounds  for  a  fellow,  and 
ten  for  a  student.  His  heart  will  break,  if  his  deanery  be  not  taken 
from  him,  and  left  to  your  Excellency's  disposal.  I  discourage  him 
by  the  coldness  of  courts  and  ministers,  who  will  interpret  all  this 
as  impossible  and  a  vision,  but  nothing  will  do.  And  therefore  I 
humbly  entreat  your  excellency,  either  to  use  such  persuasions  as 
will  keep  one  of  the  first  men  in  this  kingdom  for  learning  and  vir- 
tue quiet  at  home,  or  assist  him  by  your  credit  to  compass  his  ro- 
mantic design,  which,  however,  is  very  noble  and  generous,  and 
directly  proper  for  a  person  of  your  excellent  education  to  encour- 
age." 

The  fine  ardor  and  eloquence  of  Berkeley,  in  pressing  his 
scheme  to  a  conclusion,  are  seen  to  advantage  in  an  anec- 

23* 


270  BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

dote  preserved  in  Duncombe's  letters.  "  Lord  Bathiirst  told 
me,  that  the  members  of  the  Scriblerus  Club  being  met  at 
bis  house  at  dinner,  they  agreed  to  rally  Berkeley,  who  was 
also  his  guest,  on  his  scheme  at  Bermuda,  Berkeley,  having 
listened  to  the  many  lively  things  they  had  to  say,  begged  to 
be  heard  in  his  turn,  and  displayed  his  plan  with  such  an  as- 
tonishing and  animating  force  of  eloquence  and  enthusiasm, 
that  they  were  struck  dumb,  and  after  some  pause,  rose  all 
up  together,  with  earnestness  exclaiming,  '  Let  us  set  out 
with  him  immediately.'  "  Private  subscriptions  were  ob- 
tained to  a  considerable  amount,  the  king  granted  a  charter, 
and,  upon  an  address  in  favor  of  the  project,  voted  with 
great  unanimity  by  the  House  of  Commons,  the  ministers 
promised  to  devote  <£  20,000  to  the  undertaking.  With 
these  encouragements,  in  September,  1728,  Berkeley  sailed 
for  Rhode  Island,  with  the  view  of  being  as  near  as  possible 
to  Bermuda,  and  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  situation 
and  wants  of  the  aborigines  and  settlers  on  the  continent. 
He  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  country  and  the  peo- 
ple, that  he  avowed  his  wish  to  have  the  charter  removed 
thither,  in  preference  to  Bermuda  ;  but  he  did  not  express 
this  desire  to  the  government,  lest  it  should  hinder  the  pay- 
ment of  the  grant. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  on  the  causes,  which  finally 
prevented  the  execution  of  this  noble  scheme.  Walpole, 
then  prime  minister,  had  other  uses  for  the  public  funds, 
than  to  endow  colleges  in  Bermuda  with  them  ;  and  Berke- 
ley, in  one  of  his  letters,  hints  at  the  jealousies  and  suspi- 
cions of  men  high  in  authority,  "  who  apprehend  this  col- 
lege may  produce  an  independency  in  America,  or  at  least 
lessen  its  dependency  on  England."  He  erred  in  departing 
for  America,  before  the  grant  had  passed  the  great  seal. 
His  presence  in  London  alone  could  have  ensured  the  ne- 
cessary funds  ;  for  none  but  the   noble  spirit,  which  first 


I  9 


BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  271 

kindled  enthusiastic  benevolence  in  the  hearts  of  wits,  leg- 
islators, and  princes,  could  at  last  have  fanned  the  impulse 
into  a  flame.  It  is  not  easy  to  express  our  admiration  of  the 
heart  and  intellect  of  the  man,  who  first  conceived  such  a 
disinterested  scheme  of  broad  philanthropy,  and,  through  so 
many  obstacles,  carried  the  project  wellnigh  to  completion. 
Men  of  cultivated  taste  and  ripe  learning,  fond  of  books 
and  the  society  of  literary  persons,  are  alone  able  to  appre- 
ciate the  sacrifice,  that  he  proposed,  in  exiling  himself  from 
the  polished  company  of  wits  and  nobles  in  London,  to  a 
distant  rock  in  the  Atlantic,  there  to  instruct  savages  in  the 
elements  of  Christian  and  secular  knowledge.  Yet  it  does 
not  appear  from  his  correspondence,  that  this  self-denial  cost 
him  a  thought,  much  less  a  regret.  We  care  not,  if  it  be 
said,  that  the  plan  was  visionary,  and  that  he  exaggerated 
the  future  advantages  of  his  new  institution.  It  would  be 
well  for  the  interests  of  humanity,  if  there  were  more  such 
dreamers.  Those  who  have  carefully  traced  the  influence 
of  the  early  establishment  of  our  own  beloved  Harvard  on 
the  fortunes  of  New  England,  will  not  be  forward  to  ex- 
press their  doubts  respecting  the  practicability  of  Berkeley's 
scheme,  and  the  foresight  he  displayed  in  estimating  its 
probable  effects.  Such  instances  of  godlike  benevolence  do 
more  to  raise  our  idea  of  human  nature,  than  all  the  indif- 
ference of  common  men  and  the  heartless  and  short-sighted 
policy  of  their  rulers  can  do  to  sink  it. 

We  had  purposed  to  notice  other  incidents  in  Berkeley's 
life,  equally  illustrative  of  the  singular  excellence  of  his 
character ;  but  we  must  pass  over  them  to  the  consideration 
of  his  works.  These  are  everywhere  imbued  with  marks 
of  that  pure,  benevolent,  but  somewhat  fanciful,  spirit, 
which  his  actions  manifested  on  every  occasion.  Relating 
chiefly  to  speculative  philosophy,  his  favorite  pursuit,  some 
were  devoted  to  another  object,  also  nigh  to  his  heart,  —  to 


272  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

ameliorate  the  condition  of  his  Irish  countrymen.  Such 
was  "  The  Querist,"  first  printed  in  1735,  containing  a  se- 
ries of  questions  respecting  the  economical  concerns  of  Ire- 
land, exposing  with  keen  satire  the  follies  of  the  rich  and 
the  needless  degradation  of  the  lower  classes,  and  propos- 
ing various  schemes  of  improvement.  Some  of  the  reme- 
dies are  such  as  a  Cato  might  have  suggested  ;  that  the  higher 
classes  should  shake  off  their  taste  for  foreign  fopperies, 
deep  drinking,  and  insane  expenditures,  and  the  poor  should 
renounce,  what  have  been  for  centuries  the  two  great  nation- 
al vices,  dirt,  and  indolence.  Many  of  the  economical  mea- 
sures are  dictated  in  the  same  benevolent  feeling,  that 
prompted  him  at  his  own  residence  to  patronize,  at  all  risks, 
the  manufactures  of  his  immediate  neighborhood,  and  to 
wear  ill-made  clothes  and  worse  wigs,  as  his  biographer  pa- 
thetically represents,  rather  than  allow  the  tailors  and  wig- 
makers  of  Cloyne  to  remain  unemployed.  Other  plans 
show  the  workings  of  an  acute  and  sagacious  mind,  applied 
to  investigating  the  causes  of  the  domestic  welfare  of  the 
nation,  when  as  yet  the  science  of  Political  Econom.y  had 
not  a  being.  The  book  contains  more  sound  notions  on  the 
nature  of  wealth,  and  the  causes  of  its  production  and  dis- 
tribution, than  any  other  publication  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted, preceding  the  great  work  of  Adam  Smith.  Some 
of  the  anticipations,  indeed,  are  direct;  as  where  he  attrib- 
utes the  creation  of  wealth  to  human  labor  united  with 
natural  agents,  and  develops  the  proper  functions  of  money. 
The  witty  and  pointed  manner  in  which  the  advice  is  given, 
and  the  pithy  rebukes  that  are  insinuated,  lend  an  interest 
to  the  work,  that  compensates  for  its  somewhat  fantastic 
form.  We  extract  a  few  queries,  taken  almost  at  random, 
as  a  specimen  of  the  author's  manner.  One  who  is  famil- 
iar with  Franklin's  writings  will  be  frequently  impressed 
with  the  similarity  of  style. 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  273 

*'  Whether  there  be  upon  earth  any  Christian  or  civilized  people, 
so  beggarly,  wretched,  and  destitute,  as  the  common  Irish  ? 

<•  Whether  the  Tartar  progeny  is  not  numerous  in  this  land  ? 
And  whether  there  is  an  idler  occupation  under  the  sun  than  to 
attend  flocks  and  herds  of  cattle  ? 

"  Whether  the  wisdom  of  the  State  should  not  wrestle  with  this 
hereditary  disposition  of  our  Tartars,  and  with  a  high  hand  intro- 
duce agriculture  ? 

"  Whether,  in  imitation  of  the  Jesuits  at  Paris,  who  admit  Prot- 
estants to  study  in  their  colleges,  it  may  not  be  right  for  us  also  to 
admit  Roman  Catholics  into  our  colleges,  without  obliging  them  to 
attend  chapel  duties,  or  catechism,  or  divinity  lectures  ?  And  wheth- 
er this  might  not  keep  money  in  the  kingdom,  and  prevent  the 
prejudices  of  a  foreign  education  ? 

*'  Whether  a  woman  of  fashion  ought  not  to  be  declared  a  pub- 
lic enemy  ? 

"  How  much  of  the  necessary  sustenance  of  our  people  is  year- 
ly exported  for  brandy  ? 

"  Whether,  if  people  must  poison  themselves,  they  had  not  bet- 
ter do  it  with  their  own  growth  ? 

"  Whether  the  natural  phlegm  of  this  island  needs  any  addition- 
al stupefier  ? 

"  What  right  an  eldest  son  hath  to  the  worst  education  ? 
"  Whether  the  poor,  grown  up  and  in  health,  need  any  other 
provision  but  their  own  industry,  under  public  inspection  ? 

"  Whether  the  poor  tax  in  England  hath  lessened  or  increased 
the  number  of  poor  ? 

♦'  Whether  the  four  elements,  and  man's  labor  therein,  be  not 
the  true  source  of  wealth  ? 

''  Whether,  if  there  was  no  silver  or  gold  in  the  kingdom,  our 
trade  might  not  nevertheless  supply  bills  of  exchange,  sufficient 
to  answer  the  demands  of  absentees  in  England  or  elsewhere  ? 

"  Whether  current  bank  notes  may  not  be  deemed  money  ?  And 
whether  they  are  not  actually  the  greater  part  of  the  money  of  this 
kingdom  ? 

"  Provided  the  wheels  move,  whether  it  is  not  the  same  thing, 
as  to  the  effect  of  the  machine,  be  this  done  by  the  force  of  wind, 
of  water,  or  of  animals  ? 


M'- 


274  BERKELEY  AND  HIS  PHILOSOPHY. 

"  ^Yhethe^  there  are  not  such  things  in  Holland  as  Bettering 
Houses  for  bringing  young  gentlemen  to  order  ?  And  whether 
such  an  institution  would  be  useless  among  us  ? 

"  Whose  fault  is  it,  if  Ireland  still  continues  poor  ?" 

If  metapliysicians  were  challenged  to  produce  one  broad, 
definite,  and  fruitful  fact  in  their  science,  which  had  been 
discovered  since  the  time  of  Bacon,  and  so  established  as  to 
admit  of  neither  cavil  nor  doubt,  we  know  of  no  better  way 
whereby  they  could  silence  the  questioner,  than  by  a  refer- 
ence to  Berkeley's  "  New  Theory  of  Vision."  Whether  it 
would  be  necessary  to  admit,  that  this  is  the  only  instance, 
or  how  the  reputation  of  their  philosophy  would  be  affected 
by  such  an  admission,  that  with  all  the  labor  bestowed  in 
their  province,  but  a  single  discovery  of  such  a  marked 
character  had  been  effected,  are  points  of  which  we  now 
say  nothing.  To  resolve  the  doubt,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  enter  on  a  broader  inquiry,  to  determine  what  Intellec- 
tual Philosophy  is,  and  to  what  end  we  study  it.  But  of 
this  hereafter.  Berkeley's  claim  to  originality  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  theory  is  unquestionable.  The  hint  for  this 
discovery  was  indeed  taken  from  a  pregnant  remark  in  the 
"  Essay  on  Human  Understanding,"  that  ideas  of  sensation 
are  often  changed  by  the  judgment.  But  Locke  was  far 
from  perceiving  the  extent  and  bearing  of  his  own  state- 
ment, and  other  writers,  instead  of  suspecting  the  truth,  had 
stated  the  opposite  in  the  plainest  terms.  The  "  New  The- 
ory "  was  published  when  the  author  was  only  twenty-five 
years  of  age.  It  was  the  first  fruits  of  a  mind  singularly 
acute  and  sagacious,  passionately  addicted  to  speculative 
pursuits,  and  having  confidence  enough  in  its  own  strength 
to  follow  an  argument  resolutely,  to  whatever  conclusion  it 
might  lead. 

One  would  suppose  from  the  title,  that  the  work  belong- 
ed to  the  department  of  physical   science.     But  the  result 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  275 

developed  is  a  psychological  fact,  and  the  reasoning  is 
wholly  abstract  and  metaphysical.  Briefly  stated,  the  doc- 
trine is  as  follows ;  that  there  is  no  resemblance  between 
the  visible  and  tangible  qualities  of  material  things  ;  that 
colors  are  the  only  objects  of  sight ;  and  the  distances,  fig- 
ures, and  magnitudes  of  external  things  are  perceived 
through  this  sense,  only  so  far  as  their  existence  is  inferred 
from  qualities  really  visible,  —  from  variations  in  light  and 
shade,  and  greater  or  less  confusion  of  tints.  Prior  to  ex- 
perience, without  the  aid  of  the  other  senses,  our  eyes  could 
not  inform  us  that  any  thing  existed  out  of  ourselves.  We 
do  not  see  the  outward  world.  The  landscape,  that  we 
view  with  delight,  exists  only  in  the  mind,  which  invests 
the  colors  seen  with  all  the  modifications  of  size  and  shape, 
disposes  them  at  fixed  distances,  and  literally 

"  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 

At  no  period  of  life,  do  we  gain,  by  one  step,  so  great  an 
accession  of  knowledge,  as  when  in  infancy  we  learn  to 
see. 

The  foregoing  statement  is  strong ;  but  we  are  not  aware 
that  it  is  exaggerated,  or  that  its  terms  require  any  qualifi- 
cation. It  is  allowed  that  colors  are  seen  ;  but,  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  term,  even  this  admission  is  too  much. 
To  take  a  parallel  instance,  what  we  term  heat  is  an  affec- 
tion of  a  sentient  subject,  not  a  quality  of  outward  matter  ; 
it  is  an  eflfect  produced  on  the  mind  by  the  transmission 
to  the  sense  of  an  unknown  principle,  which  chemists  term 
caloric.  Metaphysicians  have  been  censured  for  their  par- 
adoxical assertion,  that  there  is  no  heat  in  fire ;  and  justly 
too,  for  the  paradox  arises  from  a  confusion  of  terms.  So 
far  as  heat  is  understood  to  be  a  sensation,  it  can  exist,  of 
course,  only  in  a  sentient  being  ;  so  far  as  it  is  said  to  exist 
in  fire,  it  is  the  cause  of  that  sensation.  The  case  is  precise- 


276  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

ly  the  same  with  color.  As  an  affection  of  mind,  it  exists 
only  when  it  is  perceived.  In  the  dark,  we  are  not  depriv- 
ed of  the  gorgeous  tints  of  nature  merely  from  our  inability 
to  see  them  ;  they  really  do  not  exist.  Their  cause  exists, 
and,  when  the  light  returns,  manifests  itself  again,  by  excit- 
ing in  our  minds  the  remembered  sensation.  If  color  were 
an  attribute  of  things  in  themselves,  in  the  same  manner 
that  extension  is,  it  is  obvious,  that  an  object  could  have  but 
one  tint  at  one  time.  Yet,  to  take  but  one  illustration  out 
of  a  thousand  that  offer,  let  a  piece  of  mother  of  pearl  be 
viewed  by  two  persons  looking  at  it  from  opposite  points, 
and  each  perceives  a  totally  different  set  of  colors. 

This  account  of  vision  does  not  shake  our  confidence  in 
the  knowledge  apparently  obtained  from  sight.  It  merely 
traces  this  knowledge  to  its  proper  source,  showing  that  it 
is  not  direct,  but  mediate.  The  process  is  not  so  mechani- 
cal, as  appears  at  the  first  view.  The  agency  of  mind 
must  be  combined  with  the  opening  of  the  eyelids,  before 
the  scene  enters.  To  use  Berkeley's  own  well  chosen  illus- 
tration, ideas  really  obtained  from  vision  are  a  language, 
in  which  we  read  the  ideas,  that  came  primarily  from  expe- 
rience and  the  sense  of  touch.  "  In  looking  at  a  page  of 
print  or  manuscript,"  says  Stewart,  "  we  are  apt  to  say,  that 
the  ideas  we  acquire  are  received  by  the  sense  of  sight ; 
and  we  are  scarcely  conscious  of  a  metaphor,  when  we 
employ  this  language.  On  such  occasions,  we  seldom  re- 
collect, that  nothing  is  perceived  by  the  eye  but  a  multitude 
of  black  strokes  drawn  on  white  paper ;  and  that  it  is  our 
own  acquired  habits,  that  communicate  to  these  strokes  the 
whole  of  that  significancy,  whereby  they  are  distinguished 
from  the  unmeaning  scrawl  of  an  infant  or  a  changeling." 
Now,  the  outward  visible  world  is  a  book,  and  the  first  one 
in  which  the  infant  learns  to  spell.  There  is  no  more  a 
necessary   connexion  between  visible  and   tangible  ideas, 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  277 

between  varieties  of  light  and  shade,  and  the  notions  of 
size,  figure,  and  distance  suggested  by  them,  than  between 
words  and  the  ideas  they  denote.  The  particles  or  undula- 
tions of  light,  striking  upon  the  retina  of  one  opening  his 
eyes  for  the  first  time,  are  mere  words  in  an  unknown 
tongue,  and  convey  no  knowledge  whatever,  but  that  a  new 
sensation  exists.  The  mind,  taught  by  experience,  invests 
them  with  significance,  makes  them  messengers  and  inter- 
preters between  the  outward  world  and  itself,  and  gains  from 
them  in  a  moment  an  amount  of  knowledge,  which  years 
would  hardly  convey  by  the  slow  steps  of  the  original  pro- 
cess. How  long,  it  has  been  asked,  would  it  be  before  a 
person  endowed  only  with  the  sense  of  touch,  by  applying 
his  hands  successively  to  every  part,  could  form  a  notion  of 
the  front  of  a  large  gothic  edifice  ?  Yet  in  a  moment,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  mind  receives  the  sensation  of 
various  colors,  forms  its  judgment  of  the  magnitude  and 
figure  that  must  occasion  such  variety,  and  pictures  to  itself, 
as  existing  outwardly,  that  complex  whole,  with  every  "  jut- 
ty,  frieze,  buttress,  and  coigne  of  vantage." 

We  have  not  room  to  give  even  a  sketch  of  the  argu- 
ment, unmatched  for  ingenuity  and  acuteness,  by  which 
Berkeley  establishes  this  theory  of  vision,  now  universally 
received.  We  easily  admit,  that  the  distance  of  any  ob- 
ject from  the  observer  cannot  immediately  be  seen  by  him  ; 
"  for  distance  being  a  line  directed  endwise  to  the  eye, 
it  projects  only  one  point  in  the  fond  of  the  eye,  which  point 
remains  invariably  the  same,  whether  the  distance  be  long- 
er or  shorter."  Yet  the  whole  theory  is  but  the  corollary  of 
this  single  admission,  and  when  the  hint  is  once  given,  a 
mind  of  tolerable  powers  will  easily  deduce  the  various  con- 
clusions from  this  fruitful  premiss.  By  a  beautiful  analysis 
of  the  mental  process  in  vision,  Berkeley  easily  refutes  the 
popular  objections  to  his  principles,  which  he  applies  suc- 
24 


278  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

cessfully  to  explaining  all  the  observed  phenomena  of  sight. 
Obvious  facts  show  the  necessity  of  experience,  before  we 
can  obtain  correct  notions  from  ihe  eye  alone.  We  are  not 
so  much  accustomed  to  see  objects  at  a  distance  from  us  in  a 
vertical  line,  as  in  a  horizontal  one  ;  hence,  the  same  visible 
appearance,  if  placed  directly  above  or  below  our  own  po- 
sition, does  not  suggest  the  same  magnitude,  as  when  seen 
at  an  equal  distance  on  a  level  with  the  eye.  Standing  on 
the  seashore,  a  ship  distant  a  few  hundred  feet  appears  of 
the  natural  size,  and  men,  not  pigmies,  walk  her  deck.  But 
ascend  to  the  brow  of  the  cliff,  and 

"  The  fishermen,  that  walk  upon  the  beach, 

Appear  like  mice  ;  and  yon  tall  anchoring  bark, 
Diminished  to  her  cock  ;  her  cock,  a  buoy 
Almost  too  small  for  sight." 

When  circumstances  are  casually  combined  to  cheat  the 
judgment,  and  we  rely  almost  solely  upon  the  eye,  the  gross- 
est mistakes  are  often  committed.  A  ludicrous  instance 
occurs  to  us.  A  stranger  was  walking  on  the  high  road 
through  a  country  town,  the  village  church  being  at  a  lit- 
tle distance  on  his  left.  A  high  fence  bordering  the  road 
interrupted  the  view  of  all  objects  between  the  top  of  the 
fence,  and  the  eaves  of  the  church.  Happening  to  turn 
his  eyes  in  that  direction,  he  saw  a  large  bay  horse  stand- 
ing composedly  on  the  roof  of  the  building.  He  stop- 
ped and  surveyed  it  curiously  a  minute  or  two,  his  astonish- 
ment increasing  all  the  while.  There  could  be  no  mistake. 
The  animal  was  there  ;  but  how  transported  to  such  a  height, 
how  he  kept  his  footing  on  a  plane  at  an  angle  of  forty-five 
degrees  to  the  horizon,  and,  above  all,  why  he  should  stand 
at  such  a  perilous  height  perfectly  immovable  and  uncon- 
cerned, all  was  a  mystery.  The  traveller  began  to  think 
that  his  own  brain  was  as  much  disturbed,  as  Tarn  O'Shan- 
ter's  was,  on  his  memorable  ride  "  by  Alloway's  auld  haunt- 


BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  279 

ed  kirk."  At  length,  retracing  his  steps  a  little  to  the  end 
of  the  fence  that  obstructed  his  view,  the  whole  riddle  was 
solved.  His  prancing  steed  was  an  image  about  twelve  inch- 
es long,  rudely  enough  carved  and  painted,  and  mounted  as 
a  weathercock  on  a  pole  in  a  farmer's  barnyard,  about  half 
way  between  the  fence  and  the  church.  One  glance  at  the 
real  support  of  the  image  so  effectually  dissolved  the  mys- 
tery, that  when  he  returned  to  his  former  position,  no  exer- 
tion of  mind  could  recall  the  illusion. 

It  was  Berkeley's  rare  good  fortune  to  have  the  truth  of 
his  theory  demonstrated  during  his  lifetime,  and  in  the  very 
manner  too,  which  he  had  confidently  predicted.  The  rea- 
soning appeared  so  satisfactory  to  his  own  mind,  that  he 
ventured  the  following  assertions  in  his  work. 

"A  man  born  blind,  being  made  to  see,  would,  at  first,  have  no 
idea  of  distance  by  sight ;  the  sun  and  stars,  the  remotest  objects, 
as  well  as  the  nearer,  would  all  seem  to  be  in  his  eye,  or  rather  in 
his  mind.  The  objects  intromitted  by  sight  would  seem  to  him, 
(as  in  truth  they  are,)  no  other  than  a  new  set  of  thoughts  or 
sensations,  each  whereof  is  as  near  to  him  as  the  perceptions  of 
pain  or  pleasure,  or  the  most  inward  passions  of  his  soul.  He 
would  not  consider  the  ideas  of  sight  with  reference  to,  or  as  hav- 
ing any  connexion  with,  the  ideas  of  touch  ;  his  view  of  them  be- 
ing entirely  terminated  within  themselves,  he  can  no  otherwise 
judge  of  them  great  or  small,  than  as  they  contain  a  greater  or 
lesser  number  of  visible  points.  Now  it  being  certain,  that  any 
visible  point  can  cover  or  exclude  from  view  only  one  other  visible 
point,  it  follows,  that  whatever  object  intercepts  the  view  of  anoth- 
er hath  an  equal  number  of  visible  points  within  it ;  and,  conse- 
quently, they  shall  both  be  thought  by  him  to  have  the  same  mag- 
nitude. Hence,  it  is  evident,  one  in  these  circumstances  would 
judge  his  thumb,  with  which  he  might  hide  a  tower,  or  hinder  its 
being  seen,  equal  to  that  tower  ;  or  his  hand,  the  interposition  where- 
of might  conceal  the  firmament  from  his  view,  equal  to  the  firma- 
ment. Such  a  one  would  not,  at  first  sight,  think  that  any  thing  he 
saw  was  high  or  low,  erect  or  inverted." 


280  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

The  book  containing  this  prediction  was  pubhshed  in 
1709.  In  1726,  Cheselden,  the  celebrated  surgeon,  couch- 
ed a  boy  fourteen  years  of  age,  who  had  been  blind  from 
his  birth.  His  account  of  the  case  appeared  first  in  the 
"  Philosophical  Transactions  "  of  that  year,  and  afterwards 
in  his  work  on  Anatomy,  from  which  the  following  passage 
is  taken. 

"  When  he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making  any  judgment 
about  distances,  that  he  thought  all  objects  whatever  touched  his 
eyes,  (as  he  expressed  it,)  as  what  he  felt  did  his  skin  ;  and 
thought  no  object  so  agreeable  as  those  which  were  smooth  and 
regular,  though  he  could  form  no  judgment  of  their  shape,  or 
guess  what  it  was  in  any  object  that  was  pleasing  to  him.  He 
knew  not  the  shape  of  any  thing,  nor  any  one  thing  from  another, 
however  different  in  shape  or  magnitude  ;  but  upon  being  told 
what  things  were,  whose  form  he  before  knew  from  feeling,  he 
would  carefully  observe,  that  he  might  know  them  again.  But 
having  too  many  objects  to  learn  at  once,  he  forgot  many  of  them. 
Having  often  forgot  which  was  the  cat  and  which  the  dog,  he  was 
ashamed  to  ask  ;  but  catching  the  cat,  which  he  knew  by  feeling, 
he  was  observed  to  look  at  her  steadfastly,  and  then  setting  her 
down,  said,  *  So  puss,  I  shall  know  you  another  time.'  About 
two  months  after  he  was  couched,  he  discovered  at  once  that  pic- 
tures represented  solid  bodies  ;  when,  to  that  time,  he  had  consid- 
ered them  only  as  party-colored  planes,  or  surfaces  diversified  with 
a  variety  of  paint.  But  even  then,  he  was  no  less  surprised,  ex- 
pecting the  pictures  would  feel  like  the  things  they  represented, 
and  was  amazed  when  he  found  those  parts,  which  by  their  light 
and  shadow  appeared  now  round  and  uneven,  felt  only  flat  like 
the  rest,  and  asked  which  was  the  lying  sense,  feeling  or  seeing. 
Being  shown  his  father's  picture  in  a  locket  at  his  mother's  watch, 
and  told  what  it  was,  he  acknowledged  a  likeness,  but  was  vastly 
surprised  ;  asking  how  it  could  be  that  a  large  face  could  be  ex- 
pressed in  so  little  room  ;  saying  it  seemed  as  impossible  to  him, 
as  to  put  a  bushel  of  any  thing  into  a  pint.  At  first,  the  things  he 
saw  he  tliought  extremely  large  ;  but  upon  seeing  things  larger, 
those  first  seen  he  conceived  less,  never  being  able  to  imagine  any 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  281 

lines  beyond  the  bounds  he  saw  ;  the  room  he  was  in,  he  said,  he 
knew  to  be  but  part  of  the  house,  yet  he  could  not  conceive  that 
the  whole  house  could  look  bigger.  1  have  couched  several  oth- 
ers," adds  Mr.  Cheselden,  "who  were  born  blind,  whose  obser- 
vations were  of  the  same  kind  ;  but  they  being  younger,  none  of 
them  gave  so  full  an  account  as  this  gentleman." 

We  have  dwelt  thus  long  on  Berkeley's  "  Theory  of  Vis- 
ion," from  a  conviction  of  its  importance  in  the  progress  of 
mental  science.  Here,  at  least,  is  one  step  gained  ;  one 
curious  fact  in  the  history  of  mind,  not  obvious  in  itself,  but 
first  worked  out  by  patient  analysis  and  reflection,  and  then 
demonstrated  by  observation  of  the  predicted  results.  Its 
establishment  makes  for  future  inquirers  a  point  of  depar- 
ture, not  a  principle  to  be  questioned,  nor  a  fancied  error  to 
be  overturned.  If  the  philosophy  of  mind  be  capable  of 
advancement,  it  must  be  through  means  of  similar  discov- 
eries effected  by  similar  means.  The  very  nature  of  a  sci- 
entific principle  is,  that  it  be  fixed,  limited,  and  definite,  for 
these  qualities  alone  distinguish  it  from  vague  remark  and 
fanciful  speculation.  This  will  be  readily  admitted  with 
regard  to  physical  science.  But  there  are  those,  who  will 
riot  allow  it  to  be  applicable  to  the  philosophy  of  mind,  or 
to  what  is  rather  called,  as  the  foundation  of  all  science, 
philosophy  itself.  With  such  persons,  the  test  of  a  princi- 
ple or  a  system  is  not  its  literal  truth,  but  its  completeness, 
or  rather  its  universality.  Making  the  boldness  of  their 
attempts  an  excuse  for  their  own  failure,  they  taunt  their 
opponents  not  with  want  of  success,  but  with  grovelling 
views.  To  adopt  the  words  of  Bacon,  "  rejiciunt  itaque 
lumen  experienticB,  propter  arrogantiam  et  fastum,  ne  vide- 
atur  mens  versari  in  vilibus  et  jiuxis.''''  But  has  their  own 
success  been  at  all  commensurate  with  the  lofty  promises 
of  their  manifesto  }  To  resolve  this  question,  we  must  in- 
quire more  particularly  into  the  origin  and  nature  of  the 
24# 


282 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


difference  of  opinion  here  alluded  to,  and  see  what  is  the 
real  ground  of  contention. 

The  Scotch  metaphysicians,  as  they  are  styled,  have 
uniformly  maintained  that  the  Baconian  mode  of  investiga- 
tion, undoubtedly  contrived  at  first  with  a  view  principally 
to  physical  science,  is  still  a  universal  organon  of  scientific 
inquiry,  and  as  such,  is  perfectly  applicable  to  the  philoso- 
phy of  mind.  Perhaps  they  have  harped  too  much  on  this 
string,  and  by  constant  appeals  to  the  "  Baconian  method  " 
and  the  "  inductive  logic,"  as  well  as  by  excessive  timidity 
in  their  own  researches,  have  exposed  themselves,  in  some 
instances,  to  well-merited  ridicule.  Still,  they  have  accom- 
plished something  by  adhering  closely  to  their  principles ; 
for  the  reputation  of  Reid,  at  least,  founded  on  his  specula- 
tions concerning  the  ideal  theory,  the  difference  between 
sensation  and  perception,  and  the  analysis  of  the  former 
facult}',  cannot  safely  be  impugned.  To  this  school  vir- 
tually belong  other  inquirers,  who,  in  the  order  of  time,  far 
preceded  E.eid  and  his  coadjutors.  Locke  first  showed  the 
practicability  of  the  method,  and  the  Scotch  philosophers 
made  his  example,  rather  than  Bacon's  precepts,  their  im- 
mediate guide.  Berkeley  also  belongs  to  the  same  set,  so 
far  as  his  theory  of  vision  is  concerned,  and  it  is  remark- 
able, that  this  is  the  only  portion  of  his  philosophical 
writings,  the  merit  of  which  has  never  been  doubted. 

The  example  of  all  these  writers  has  proved,  that  phi- 
losophy grows  by  the  successive  contributions  of  different 
minds,  and  that  observation  and  patient  research  are  as 
fruitful  in  this  as  in  the  other  sciences.  Admitting,  that 
many  questions,  which  had  exercised  the  ingenuity  of 
former  inquirers,  were  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties,  a 
broad  field  of  investigation  appeared  still  open,  and  the 
cultivation  of  it  promised  to  advance  the  well-being  of  man- 
kind in  the  same  manner,  that  discoveries  in  the  depart- 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  283 

ment  of  physics  had  done,  though  to  a  far  greater  degree. 
The  resuhs  would  be  equally  definite  and  equally  tangible, 
though  not  so  easily  referred  to  their  proper  source.  But 
this  timid  procedure  has  beconie  unpopular  of  late.  A 
new  set  of  philosophers  has  arisen,  professing  not  to  be 
mere  contributors  to  the  science  of  mind,  but  to  be  au- 
thors of  new  systems,  covering  the  whole  ground,  and 
explaining  all  observed  and  all  possible  phenomena.  Their 
followers  will  admit  nothing  that  is  partial,  but  reject  every 
scheme,  which  does  not,  like  that  of  Cousin,  "  embrace  in 
one  splendid  generalization,  God,  man,  and  the  universe." 
There  is  something  very  captivating  in  such  a  procedure. 
To  reduce  all  the  riddles  of  human  life  to  one  grand 
problem,  and  by  a  single  statement,  however  arbitrary,  to 
resolve  the  difficulty,  is  an  attempt  worthy  of  a  comprehen- 
sive and  daring  spirit.  Abstracting  entirely  from  differ- 
ences of  opinion  on  single  topics,  and  looking  only  to  the 
manner  and  object  of  philosophical  inquiries,  we  find  no 
other  distinction  so  broad  and  obvious,  as  the  one  here 
stated,  between  the  writings  of  Kant,  Fichte,  Schelling, 
and  Cousin,  on  the  one  side,  and  those  of  Locke,  Reid, 
and  their  followers,  on  the  other.  Berkeley  can  be  ranked 
with  the  latter  set  in  respect  only  to  his  theory  of  vision. 
In  his  other  works,  he  rather  appears  as  the  founder  of  the 
former  school.  But  the  two  methods  may  be  considered, 
for  the  sake  of  conciseness,  as  belonging  respectively  to 
the  English  and  the  Germans. 

We  have  avowed  a  preference  for  the  English  philoso- 
phy. In  respect  to  that  of  the  Germans,  the  only  proper 
question  seems  to  be,  whether  it  can  be  properly  consid- 
ered as  any  philosophy  at  all.  A  science  grows  either  by 
the  way  of  analysis,  by  the  evolution  of  new  principles 
from  those  formerly  known,  or  by  extended  observation 
embracing   more    facts,  and   bringing   them,  by  a   wider 


284 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 


enunciation  of  the  truth,  into  one  view.  Isolated  truths  are 
useless  for  scientific  purposes.  They  do  not  enter  into  the 
body  of  our  knowledge,  until  the  relations  connecting  them 
with  previous  discoveries  are  perceived,  and  their  due  po- 
sition being  thus  ascertained,  the  process  of  generalizing 
can  be  easily  completed.  But  what  is  called  a  philosophi- 
cal system  is  a  thing  by  itself  If  incomplete,  it  is  nothing; 
it  does  not  answer  even  its  own  end.  If  finished  and  con- 
nected, it  must  be  founded  on  gratuitous  hypotheses  and 
arbitrary  definitions ;  and  it  leaves  the  future  inquirer  noth- 
ino;  to  do.  No  additions  can  be  made,  and  the  student 
must  either  sit  quietly  down  in  admiration  of  his  predeces- 
sor's work,  or  must  commence  his  task  as  an  improver,  by 
pulling  down  the  whole  edifice,  to  clear  the  ground  for  a 
new  construction  of  his  own.  Hence,  instead  of  advancing 
in  knowledge,  we  have  only  a  perpetual  seesaw  of  old  er- 
rors. It  is  idle,  therefore,  for  the  favorers  of  such  systems 
to  talk  of  progress.  The  aim  of  every  inquirer  is,  to  reach 
by  one  bound  the  limits  of  human  inquiry,  and  to  demon- 
strate, that  the  utmost  exertion  of  intellect  can  no  farther 
go.  "  His  analysis  is  final  ;  his  explanations  are  universal ; 
his  assertions  absolute ;  his  science  entire."  One  sys- 
tem is  not  the  stepping-stone  to  another,  but  a  substitute 
for  all  that  existed  previously,  and  an  impediment  to  future 
attempts.  It  is  not  a  bridge,  but  a  wall,  or  a  precipice. 
Thus  Kant,  with  great  affectation  of  logical  exactness, 
demonstrates  the  folly  of  all  past,  and  the  impossibility  of 
all  future,  metaphysics.  He  transports  us  to  a  new  point 
of  view,  —  a  Transcendental  one,  in  philosophy,  maintain- 
ing not  merely  that  it  is  the  only  true,  but  the  only  pos- 
sible, position.  For  the  absolute  certainty,  which  we 
seemed  to  possess  on  some  topics,  he  substitutes  a  human 
and  subjective  conviction,  sufficient  indeed  for  our  purposes, 
but  in  nowise  conformable  to  the   truth  of  things  in  them,' 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  285 

selves.  To  use  his  own  jargon,  we  live  in  a  world  not  of 
noumena,  but  of  phenomena.  In  exchange  for  this  system, 
Fichte  gives  us  one  of  absolute  idealism  ;  Schelling,  one  of 
entire  pantheism  ;  and  Hegel,  the  last  great  name  in  Ger- 
man metaphysics,  has  published  his  scheme  of  utter  nihil- 
ism. These  systems  are  not  additive  to  each  other,  but  are 
mutually  destructive.  Regarding  the  lofty  pretensions  ad- 
vanced by  all  of  them,  there  is  something  ludicrous  in  the 
rapidity,  with  which  they  succeed  each  other.  At  short  in- 
tervals, a  new  philosophical  system  was  expected  in  Germa- 
ny with  as  much  certainty  as,  a  few  years  ago,  we  looked 
every  six  months  for  a  new  Waverley  novel. 

Whh  this  sketch,  compare  the  progress  of  Philosophy  in 
England.  Berkeley  founded  the  most  successful  of  his  phi- 
losophical works  on  a  pregnant  remark  in  the  "  Essay  on 
Human  Understanding,"  and  thereby  confirmed  the  sagaci- 
ty of  his  predecessor,  and  carried  out  the  principle  to  an 
extent  of  which  Locke  had  never  dreamed.  Hartley  se- 
lected for  the  object  of  his  inquiries  a  mental  principle,  that 
his  forerunners  had  hardly  noticed,  and  illustrated  its  influ- 
ence and  mode  of  operation  with  a  fullness  and  accuracy, 
which  have  left  his  successors  nothing  to  do  in  the  way  of 
explaining  the  Association  of  Ideas,  but  to  apply  it  in  ac- 
counting for  the  origin  of  error  and  prejudice.  The  works 
of  Reid  are  not  a  refutation,  but  a  defence,  of  Locke.  The 
germs  of  his  most  important  dogmas  are  to  be  found  in  the 
"  Essay,"  and  these  he  developed  with  a  clearness  and 
force  of  reasoning  worthy  of  his  Scotch  birth.  Here  every 
thing  is  additive,  as  in  the  history  of  an  exact  science.  We 
are  not  obliged  to  unlearn  Locke,  before  we  comprehend 
Berkeley,  or  to  forget  Hartley  before  we  can  study  Reid. 
And  the  reason  is  obvious.  Neither  claims  the  merit  of 
completeness  for  his  labors.  Each  notices  the  faults  of  his 
predecessors,  prunes  his  redundances  and   mistakes,  and,  it 


286  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

is  true,  commits  errors  of  a  different  kind  himself.  But 
they  correct  only.  They  do  not  destroy.  Through  all  the 
imperfections,  we  can  discern  clearly,  that  the  march  is  on- 
ward. It  is  slow,  too  slow,  certainly,  for  our  fiery  hopes. 
But  it  goes  on. 

We  are  far  from  denying  any  merit  to  the  Continental 
writers.  It  would  be  strange  indeed,  if  men  of  such  va- 
rious and  profound  talents,  devoted  exclusively  to  philosoph- 
ical pursuits,  should  fail  of  success  on  every  point.  The 
only  object,  at  present,  is  to  point  out  the  radical  vice  of 
their  method.  We  can  glean  from  their  works  many  saga- 
cious observations  and  acute  analyses  of  mental  processes, 
and  with  these  increase  the  body  of  truths  collected  on  the 
English  plan.  But  it  is  only  from  the  ruins  of  their  fanci- 
ful structures,  that  such  gleanings  can  be  made.  We  must 
pull  down  the  edifice,  before  we  can  use  the  materials. 
The  builders  of  them  are  right  by  accident,  and  wrong  by 
system.  Their  great  mistake  is  the  more  extraordinary,  be- 
cause it  is  the  same  with  that  committed  in  the  very  infancy 
of  speculation,  and  which  has  been  so  frequently  exposed. 
To  generalize  at  once,  to  reduce  all  phenomena  to  one  law, 
to  arrive  at  unity  of  principle  by  bold  anticipations  of  the 
truth,  was  the  sole  object  of  the  ancient  philosophers. 
Hence  their  thousand  whimsical  theories,  the  water  of 
Thales,  the  atoms  of  Leucippus,  the  omoiomera  of  Anaxag- 
oras.  The  follies  of  antiquity  have  reappeared,  not  only  in 
the  form,  but  frequently  in  the  doctrines,  of  philosophy.  In 
a  modified  and  less  objectionable  shape.  New  Platonism  has 
revived  in  France  ;  and  recently,  with  still  clearer  marks 
of  its  origin,  it  has  appeared  at  our  own  doors.  It  was  apt- 
ly characterized  more  than  two  centuries  since  ;  "  ilhid  al- 
terujn  genus  pkilosopMcE  phantasticum^  et  tumidum,  et  quasi 
poeiicum,  magis  hlandUur  intellectiii.     Inest  enim   homini 


BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  287 

qucedam  intellectus  amhitio,  non  minor  voluntatis ;  prceser- 
tim  in  ingeniis  altis  et  elevatis.'''' 

There  is  another  evil  consequent  on  the  universality  of 
the  plan,  which  these  writers  have  in  view,  that  is  still  more 
serious  than  the  obstruction  to  the  advancement  of  knowl- 
edge. Poets  made  the  religion  of  the  ancients,  and  philos- 
ophers would  fain  construct  that  of  the  moderns.  We  have 
no  words  to  express  our  indignation  at  the  charlatanry, 
which  tampers  with  religious  belief  and  immortal  interests, 
in  order  to  gild  and  complete  a  fantastic  system  of  man's 
device.  Philosophy  is  not  the  master  nor  the  author  of 
religion,  but  its  servant.  It  may  interpret  oracles,  but  it 
utters  none.  We  care  not,  whether  by  one  scheme,  man's 
nature  be  debased  and  his  hopes  of  immortality  ridiculed, 
or  by  another,  his  faith  in  things  unseen  and  eternal  be  re- 
fined into  a  fleeting  abstraction,  that  may  heat  the  imagina- 
tion, but  cannot  touch  the  heart.  There  is  little  to  choose 
between  the  faith  of  Diderot  and  Voltaire,  and  that  of 
Fichte  and  Schelling.  Never  was  a  sounder  remark  than 
Bacon's  ;  "  from  this  foolish  mixture  of  divine  and  human 
things,  there  results  not  only  a  fantastic  philosophy,  but  a 
heretical  religion."  Never  was  better  advice  given  than 
his  :  Render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and 
unto  faith,  the  things  that  belong  to  faith. 

No  higher  praise  can  be  given  to  Berkeley's  philosophi- 
cal works,  than  to  indicate  their  constant  direction  to  the 
defence  of  religious  truth.  He  did  not  derive  his  faith  from 
his  speculations,  but  devoted  these  to  its  support.  The 
main  object  in  all  his  writings,  except  those  v/e  have  already 
noticed,  is  the  refutation  of  skepticism.  To  this  end,  he 
was  admirably  qualified  by  his  various  learning,  the  rich 
and  eloquent  character  of  his  style,  and  the  fairness,  tact, 
and  cogency  of  his  reasoning.  These  qualities  are  fully 
displayed   in  "  The  Minute   Philosopher,"   the  fruit  of  his 


288  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

meditations  during  his  residence  in  this  country.  In  this 
work,  he  pursues  the  adversary  through  the  various  char- 
acters of  atheist,  libertine,  enthusiast,  scorner,  critic,  meta- 
physician, fatalist,  and  skeptic ;  meeting  him  at  every  turn, 
and  fairly  vanquishing  him  with  his  own  weapons.  Some- 
times, perhaps,  the  arguments  are  drawn  too  fine ;  and 
though  the  difficulty  of  answering  them  is  thus  increased, 
they  do  not  force  conviction  so  frequently  as  less  subtile 
reasoning.  The  work  is  cast  into  the  form  of  dialogues, 
which,  with  the  frequent  use  of  the  Socratic  mode  of  dis- 
putation, betrays  the  writer's  fondness  for  the  literature  and 
philosophy  of  the  Greeks.  Many  of  the  characters  in  the 
conversation,  particularly  that  of  Crito,  a  cool  and  sarcastic 
observer,  are  admirably  supported. 

In  his  other  writings,  Berkeley  attacked  skepticism  in  a 
manner  equally  new  and  ingenious.  Hitherto,  the  defend- 
ers of  religion  had  waged  a  protracted  contest,  by  merely 
parrying  the  blows  aimed  against  Christianity,  and  vindicat- 
ing it  against  assaults  of  a  various,  and  indeed  an  opposite, 
character.  Berkeley  suddenly  assumed  the  offensive,  and 
carried  the  war  with  great  vigor  into  the  enemy's  camp. 
He  showed,  that  the  difficulties  raised  against  a  scheme  of 
religious  faith,  existed  equally  in  all  departments  of  knowl- 
edge ;  that  metaphysical  reasoning,  applied  with  logical 
exactness  to  the  first  principles  of  all  science,  exposed 
greater  inconsistences  and  stumbling-blocks  to  progress, 
than  could  be  found  in  all  discourse  about  necessity,  the 
origin  of  evil,  or  the  impossibility  of  believing  in  miracles. 
Instead  of  defending  the  immateriality  of  the  thinking  prin- 
ciple, he  attacked  the  existence  of  matter.  The  nature  of 
the  Deity  is  inconceivable,  but  so  are  the  abstractions  of 
mathematics.  Apparent  contradictions  appear  from  con- 
necting the  ideas  of  his  various  attributes,  but  greater  seem- 
ing absurdities  may  be  logically  deduced  from  the  defini- 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  289 

tions  of  the  geometer  and  the  analyst.  The  argument  is 
conducted  on  the  same  principles  in  either  case,  and  the 
results  must  be  admitted  or  rejected  together.  The  infidel 
is  thus  pushed  to  the  dilemma,  either  of  rejecting  all  that 
knowledge  and  science,  on  which  he  grounds  alike  the 
most  minute  and  the  most  important  actions  of  life,  or  of 
acknowledging  the  insufficiency  of  his  own  method,  and 
quitting  the  field  altogether.  The  imperfection  of  our  fac^- 
ulties  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  difficulty.  Human  ingenuity 
can  weave  puzzles,  which  human  intellect  cannot  solve. 
But  it  is  the  part  of  overweening  self-confidence  to  suppose, 
that  the"  problem  is  altogether  insoluble,  because  loe  cannot 
find  an  answer  to  it ;  that  the  ocean  is  bottomless,  because 
our  lines  cannot  fathom  it.  Yet  we  have  no  cause  to  dis- 
trust our  capacities,  or  repine  at  their  insufficiency  to  an- 
swer all  the  calls  of  our  finite  and  our  immortal  destiny. 
We  can  sound  the  ocean  sufficiently  far  to  insure  the  safety 
of  the  ship,  though  not  to  satisfy  a  vain  curiosity.  We  can 
meet  any  difficulty,  with  which  we  have  any  immediate 
concern.  The  obstacles  we  have  alluded  to  lie  not  directly 
in  our  path  ;  they  cloud  no  man's  prospects,  unless  he  lends 
his  own  efforts  to  raise  them.  If  sought  for,  they  will  surely 
be  found,  but  they  come  not  unasked. . 

The  skepticism  of  Hume  is,  in  fact,  a  confirmation  of 
Berkeley's  successful  mode  of  conducting  the  argument. 
He  was  fairly  caught  in  the  trap,  which  the  ingenuity  of 
his  predecessor  had  set.  He  considered  the  writings  of  the 
Bishop,  notwithstanding  their  avowed  purpose,  as  forming 
the  best  lessons  of  skepticism,  that  could  be  found  either 
among  ancient  or  modern  philosophers.  "  That  all  his  ar- 
guments, though  otherwise  intended,  are,  in  reality,  merely 
skeptical,  appears  from  this,"  (an  extraordinary  admission, 
by  the  way,)  "  that  they  admit  of  no  answer  and  produce 
no  conviction.'^'*  Carrying  out  the  principle,  Hume  attacked 
25 


290  BERKELEY  AND  HIS  PHILOSOPHY. 

the  foundations  of  belief  on  all  subjects.     The  confiding 
belief  of    the  child  and   the    imposing   certainties   of  the 
mathematician,  are,  on  his  system,   reduced   to   the  same 
level.     His    predecessors   had   shown    the    impossibility  of 
stopping  half  way,  and  he  therefore  pursued  the  journey  to 
the  end.     The  result  is  forcibly  stated  in  his  own  language. 
"  The   intense  view  of  these   manifold  contradictions   and 
imperfections  in  human  reason  has  so  wrought  upon  me, 
and   heated   my  brain,  that  I  am  ready  to  reject  all  belief 
and  reasoning,  and  can  look  upon  no  opinion  even  as  more 
probable  or  likely  than  another."     The  only  reply  to  the 
argument  and  the  result  thus  summed  up  was  foreseen  by 
Berkeley,  and  is  forcibly  stated   by  Mackintosh.     "  What- 
ever attacks  every   principle   of  belief,  can  destroy  none. 
j  As  long  as  the  foundations  of  knowledge  are  allowed  to  re- 
main on  the  same  level  (be  it  called  of  certainty  or  uncer- 
Itainty)  with  the  maxims  of  life,  the  whole  system  of  human 
(belief  must  continue  undisturbed.     When  the  skeptic  boasts 
of  having   involved   the  results  of  experience  and  the   ele- 
ments of  geometry  in  the   same  ruin  with  the  doctrines  of 
religion  and  the   principles  of  philosophy,  he  may  be   an- 
swered, that  no  dogmatist  ever  claimed  more  than  the  same 
degree  of  certainty  for  these  various  convictions  and  opin- 
ions ;  and  that  his  skepticism,  therefore,  leaves  them  in  the 
relative  condition  in  which  it  found  them." 

The  occasion,  on  which  "  The  Analyst "  was  written, 
sufficiently  indicates  the  purpose  that  its  author  had  in  view. 
Berkeley  and  Addison  were  both  intimate  friends  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Garth,  who  held  to  infidel  opinions.  When 
the  latter  was  on  his  deathbed,  Addison  visited  him,  and 
charitably  endeavored  to  converse  on  religious  topics,  with 
a  view  of  preparing  him  for  his  approaching  end.  The 
Doctor  repulsed  him,  however,  with  this  singular  remark. 
"  Surely,  Addison,  I  have  good  reason  not  to  believe  those 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  291 

trifles,  since  my  friend  Dr.  Halley,  who  has  dealt  so  much 
in  demonstration,  has  assured  me,  that  the  doctrines, of 
Christianity  are  incomprehensible,  and  the  religion  itself  an 
imposture."  Addison  related  the  conversation  to  Berkeley, 
who  was  so  much  struck  with  it,  that  he  resolved  to  assail 
Halley  on  his  own  ground,  and  in  a  short  time,  he  published 
"  The  Analyst,  a  Discourse  addressed  to  an  Infidel  Mathe- 
matician.'" It  was  his  object  to  prove,  that  the  principles 
and  inferences  of  modern  analytic  science  are  no  more  dis- 
tinctly conceived,  or  more  evidently  deduced,  than  religious 
mysteries  and  points  of  faith.  The  pamphlet  is  written  with 
great  vigor  and  acuteness,  and  displays  the  writer's  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  branch  of  learning,  that  he  assails. 
It  provoked  replies  from  Walton,  Jurin,  Robins,  and  other 
distinguished  English  mathematicians,  and  the  Bishop  de- 
fended himself  with  temper  and  ability. 

The  chief  ground  of  attack  is  the  notion  of  qualities  in- 
jinitely  small,  on  which  the  whole  theory  of  Fluxions,  or  the 
Calculus  is  based,  and  which  is  implied  even  in  the  defini- 
tions and  reasoning  of  the  geometer.  This  idea  has  ever 
been  a  stumbling-block  to  the  mathematician ;  when  hard 
pressed  on  the  subject,  he  is  reduced  to  the  sorry  argu- 
ment, that  the  principles  and  reasoning  must  be  well  found- 
ed, for  the  results  are  correct.  No  one  doubts  this.  But 
the  superior  rigor  of  his  method  is  poorly  supported  by  an 
appeal  to  the  argument  a  posteriori.  The  diflSculty  in  the 
Calculus  arises  from  the  loose  and  imperfect  idea,  that  we 
attach  to  the  expression  dx.  If  it  be  considered  as  a  quan- 
tity infinitely  small,  since,  by  the  hypothesis,  it  is  an  ele- 
ment or  integral  part  of  a  fixed  and  assignable  magnitude, 
it  follows,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  that  lines  may  be  regard- 
ed as  made  up  of  points,  and  surfaces  of  lines.  But  how 
can  a  determinate  length  be  formed  by  the  continued  addi- 
tion of  elements,  that,  taken  separately,  have  no  length .? 


292  BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

What  is  the  difference  between  the  mathematician's  idea  of 
zero,  and  of  a  quantity  infinitely  small?  Either  may  be 
suppressed  at  the  conclusion  of  the  process,  without  affect- 
ing the  correctness  of  the  result.  Why  may  it  not  be  sup- 
pressed, then,  at  the  beginning,  or  if  retained,  of  what  use  is 
it?  It  is  a  mere  evasion  of  the  difficulty,  to  say,  that  dx  is 
merely  a  quantity  that  may  be  rendered  as  small  as  we 
please,  without  changing  those  magnitudes,  whose  relations 
to  each  other  is  sought.  This  is  to  make  the  expression 
wholly  indeterminate,  and  how  then  can  it  preserve  unalter- 
ed relations  to  definite  magnitudes  ?  In  regard  to  precision 
of  thought,  there  is  little  to  choose  between  an  expression, 
that  may  have  any  meaning,  and  that  which  has  no  mean- 
ing. Suppose  a  sheet  of  paper  to  be  cut  by  a  number  of 
planes,  at  right  angles  with  its  surface,  and  parallel  to  each 
other.  The  cutting  planes  are  mere  surfaces,  having  length 
and  breadth,  but  no  thickness.  However  small  the  sheet, 
ten  thousand  planes  may  be  passed  through  it  in  this  man- 
ner, and  there  will  still  be  as  much  room  as  when  we  com- 
menced. Hence,  the  paper  may  be  divided  into  parts  infi- 
nitely small.  Is  the  meaning  of  this  proposition  altered  in 
the  least,  if  we  change  the  expression,  and  say,  that  the 
paper  may  be  divided  into  parts  as  small  as  we  please  ? 
Whichever  phrase  we  adopt,  all  the  absurd  consequences, 
that  flow  from  admitting  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter, 
are  legitimately  established,  and  by  reasoning,  which  is 
purely  mathematical.  The  consideration  of  differentials  of 
the  second  and  third  degree  leads  to  still  greater  difficulties. 
What  are  we  to  think  of  a  double  indeterminateness,  or  of 
a  quantity  as  much  smaller  than  dx^  as  dx  is  smaller  than 
the  universe  ?  Must  we  not  regard  the  mathematician  here 
as  using  mere  arbitrary  symbols,  that  possess  certain  won- 
derful properties  and  guide  him  to  the  desired  result,  but  of 
whose  real  essence   he  knows  nothing  ?     He  tends  a  ma- 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  293 

chine,  that  does  his  work  faithfully,  but  he  is  wholly  igno- 
rant of  its  internal  construction. 

We  are  not  aware,  that  the  metaphysical  difficulties  here 
stated,  as  involved  in  the  theory  of  the  Calculus,  are  more 
serious  than  many,  which  attach  to  the  simplest  algebraical 
expressions.  Mathematical  notation,  in  its  primitive  form, 
is  but  an  abridged  statement  of  reasoning,  that  may  be  car- 
ried on  mentally,  and  without  the  use  of  signs,  but  with  a 
greater  burden  to  the  memory.  The  process  is  legitimate, 
only  so  far  as  the  technical  expression  may  be  referred 
again  to  the  original  ideas.  But  seduced  by  the  facility  of 
the  operation,  and  following  the  analogy  of  the  first  steps, 
the  mathematician  goes  too  far,  and  the  correspondence  be- 
tween the  notation  and  the  mental  conception  ceases  en- 
tirely. The  symbols  become  arbitrary,  and  the  process  is 
altogether  mechanical.  We  can  understand  the  expression 
a-Z>,  when  a  represents  a  quantity  greater  than  h.  But 
when  this  is  not  the  case,  the  idea  becomes  wavering  and 
uncertain.  Negative  quantities,  standing  by  themselves, 
can  be  but  imperfectly  conceived.  In  like  manner,  we  can 
speak  intelligibly  of  the  square  root  of  a  positive  quantity, 
though  its  value  cannot  be  exactly  assigned.  But  of  the 
square  root  of  a  negative  quantity  we  can  have  no  concep- 
tion ;  it  is  wholly  absurd.  Instances  might  be  easily  mul- 
tiplied from  the  higher  branches  of  the  science,  where  the 
notation  of  the  algebraist,  as  it  were,  outruns  his  intellect. 
But  to  admit  such  examples  to  shake  our  confidence  in  the 
formulas  obtained,  would  be  to  allow,  that  the  theological 
difficulties  alluded  to  could  unhinge  our  religious  faith. 
The  writer  of  the  "  Analyst "  only  labored  to  prove,  that 
there  were  stumbling-blocks  of  as  much  importance  in 
mathematical,  as  in  moral,  reasoning,  and  the  attempt  must 
be  considered  as  a  very  fair  instance  of  the  argumentum  ad 
hominem. 

25* 


294  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

Whatever  opinion  may  be  formed  of  Berkeley's  success 
in  his  contest  with  the  mathematicians,  it  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed, that  his  refutation  of  the  materialists  is  perfectly  con- 
clusive. The  work  particularly  addressed  to  these  philoso- 
phers is  his  "  Treatise  concerning  the  Principles  of  Human 
Knowledge,"  which  appeared  the  year  after  the  publi- 
cation of  the  "  New  Theory  of  Vision."  It  contains  the 
system  usually  denoted  by  the  author's  name,  and  is  the 
chief  source  of  his  celebrity  in  the  history  of  mental  sci- 
ence. Considered  as  the  production  of  a  mere  youth,  only 
twenty-six  years  of  age,  the  unrivalled  tact  which  it  dis- 
plays in  metaphysical  research,  the  bold  and  comprehen- 
sive views  that  are  advanced,  and  the  singular  ingenuity 
and  force  of  the  reasoning,  by  which  they  are  supported, 
all  excite  no  less  wonder  than  admiration.  The  ideal  theo- 
ry, that  denied  the  real  existence  of  material  things,  had 
been  regarded  before  Berkeley's  time  merely  as  one  of  the 
fantastic  speculations  of  the  Greeks,  that  might  amuse  the 
leisure  of  the  student  with  the  singularity  of  the  hypothe- 
sis, but  hardly  merited  serious  comment  or  refutation.  He 
made  it  one  of  the  chief  questions  in  philosophy,  and  sup- 
ported his  own  side  with  so  much  address,  that  to  have 
been  a  convert  to  his  theory  at  some  period  of  one's  life  is 
regarded  as  a  test  of  ability  in  abstruse  speculations. 

There  is  a  prevailing  misapprehension  respecting  the 
nature  and  influence  of  a  belief  in  Idealism.  It  is  often 
said,  that  the  common  actions  of  life,  —  precautions  against 
bodily  injury,  for  instance,  are  at  variance  with  its  prin- 
ciples ;  and  that  the  daily  conduct  of  the  Idealist  refutes 
his  assertions.  To  be  consistent,  it  is  supposed,  that  he 
must  imitate  the  ancient  skeptic,  who  would  not  turn  aside, 
though  a  carriage  drove  against  him  in  the  streets  ;  or 
move  out  of  the  path,  though  it  led  to  a  precipice.  We 
are  somewhat  skeptical  about  the  fact,  for  Pyrrho  lived  to 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  295 

the  age  of  ninety.  But  at  any  rate,  the  Berkeleyan  of  our 
day  seeks  not  to  establish  his  consistency  by  running  any 
such  hazards.  He  doubts  not  the  reality  of  ideas  and  sen- 
sations as  such.  Nature  exists  for  him  also,  but  only  in  his 
own  mind.  He  fully  believes  in  the  uniformity  of  her 
laws,  —  that  like  causes  will  produce  like  effects.  He  is 
confident,  for  instance,  that  the  idea  of  falling  from  a 
precipice  will  be  followed  by  the  idea  of  exquisite  pain, 
and  if  he  has  common  sense,  he  will  avoid  those  volitions, 
which  constant  experience  has  taught  him  will  lead  to  its 
occurrence.  He  does  not,  it  is  true,  fear  the  fracture  of  a 
tone,  for  he  thinks  that  there  are  no  bones  to  break.  But 
he  dreads  the  conception  of  such  an  injury,  and  the  pain 
which  must  be  consequent  on  the  feeling.  Since  we  are 
no  farther  interested  in  our  bodily  frame,  than  as  it  is  a 
source  of  pleasure  or  pain,  and  since  these  feelings  evi- 
dently belong  not  to  outward  substance,  but  to  the  mind,  it 
is  difficult  to  see  any  room  for  the  charge  of  inconsistency. 
One  may  dream  of  being  tortured,  and  though  the  fire  and 
stake  exist  only  in  his  imagination,  the  convulsed  motions 
of  the  sleeper  prove,  that  the  mental  agony  is  real.  One 
might  reasonably  take  precautions  against  the  recurrence 
of  such  fancies,  though  he  believes  them  to  be  nothing  but 
."  written  troubles  of  the  brain." 

Berkeley  was  led  to  doubt  the  existence  of  matter  by 
the  same  train  of  thought,  that  is  expressed  in  his  theory  of 
vision.  If  we  see  the  outward  world  only  in  imagination, 
how  do  we  know  that  it  exists  at  all  ?  The  visible  world 
is  a  phantasm  ;  what  better  evidence  of  reality  has  the 
tangible  ?  The  other  senses  cannot  aid  us  here  ;  the  same 
arguments,  that  we  have  applied  to  colors,  hold  equally 
well  with  odors,  tastes,  and  sounds.  These  are  effects  pro- 
duced on  the  mind.  We  take  cognizance  of  them,  and  can 
even   specify  the   occasions,  on  which   they  are    excited. 


296  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

But  of  their  causes,  the  only  things  supposed  to  exist  ex- 
ternally, we  know  nothing ;  and  it  is  vain  to  make  any  in- 
quiry respecting  them,  till  we  can  assign  some  reason,  why 
an  orange  tastes  sweet,  and  a  lemon  sour  ;  why  a  drum 
sounds  hollow,  and  glass  shrill.  Yet,  as  Berkeley  remarks, 
"  it  is  indeed  an  opinion  strangely  prevailing  among  men, 
that  houses,  mountains,  rivers,  and  in  a  word,  all  sensible 
objects  have  an  existence  natural  or  real,  distinct  from  their 
being  perceived  by  the  understanding."  But  ask  of  such 
a  believer  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  him.  What  is 
that  matter,  for  the  existence  of  which  you  contend  ?  It  is 
something  that  is  extended,  figured,  colored,  hard  or  soft, 
&c.  But  what  is  that  something  7  We  cannot  tell.  It  is 
supposed  to  be  inert,  unsentient,  and  unthinking.  But  if 
inactive,  how  can  it  be  a  cause  of  sensation  }  If  unthink- 
ing, how  can  it  excite  thought  ?  Our  notion  of  any  par- 
ticular substance  is  but  a  congeries  of  sensible  impressions, 
and  when  we  have  separated  from  it  the  ideas  of  its  par- 
ticular qualities,  its  taste,  smell,  figure,  and  hardness,  the 
whole  conception  is  destroyed.  But  these  qualities  are 
relative  terms,  and  vary  with  different  recipients,  and  under 
dissimilar  circumstances,  with  the  same  recipient.  What 
is  slow  to  the  swallow,  is  arrowy  swiftness  to  the  tortoise. 
What  is  a  mite,  —  an  atom  to  man,  is  a  universe  to  the 
animalculae  discoverable  by  the  microscope.  Our  eyes  are 
jaundiced,  and  a  sickly  tint  is  spread  over  the  landscape. 
Our  mouths  are  parched  with  fever,  and  the  taste  of  every 
thing  is  nauseous.  We  have  followed  the  huge  war-ship 
with  the  eye,  till  it  has 

"  melted  from 
The  smallness  of  a  gnat  to  air." 

How  is  it  possible,  that  things  perpetually  fleeting  and  va- 
riable as  our  ideas,  changing  on  every  alteration  in  the 
distance,  medium,  or  instrument,  should   be  the  image  of 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  297 

any  thing  fixed  and  permanent  ?  What  needs  this  huge 
fabric  of  lifeless  matter  to  excite  impressions  in  us,  when 
the  same  effects  might  be  produced  without  its  agency  ? 
All  knowledge  proceeds  originally  from  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing, the  source  of  truth  ;  but,  as  the  materialist  supposes, 
it  comes  mediately,  or  through  the  intervention  of  matter. 
Why  not  trace  it  directly  to  the  proper  fountain  ?  Dreams, 
for  the  time,  are  real  ;  at  least,  they  produce  all  the  effects 
of  reality,  in  exciting  belief,  emotion,  and  action.  Con- 
sider the  difference  between  the  wild  and  inconsistent  fan- 
cies, that  crowd  the  sick  man's  brain  in  sleep,  and  the 
dreams  of  a  healthy  person,  which  are  comparatively  well- 
ordered  and  consistent.  It  is  as  wide,  as  the  distinction, 
that  any  one  man  can  draw  between  his  own  sleeping  and 
waking  thoughts.  Why  may  not  all  this  mortal  life  be  one 
long  dream,  from  which  we  shall  be  wakened  only  by  the 
last  trump  .? 

Idealism  is  not  skepticism,  but  its  opposite.  Berkeley 
did  not  distrust  his  senses,  or  repose  with  one  jot  less  of 
confidence  in  the  information  they  afforded.  He  opposed 
only  what  he  held  to  be  an  unfair  conclusion  ;  that  our 
sensations  are  caused  by  inanimate,  brute,  unthinking  mat- 
ter, of  the  essence  of  which  we  know  nothing,  and  never 
can  know  anything.  He  believed,  that  these  ideas  came 
rather  from  the  infinite  and  omniscient  mind.  They  can- 
not be  the  creations  of  our  own  minds,  for  they  exist  inde- 
pendently of  human  volitions  ;  we  cannot  help  receiving 
them,  when  the  organization  of  the  senses  is  perfect. 
Moreover,  as  they  are  perceived  by  us  at  intervals,  and  as 
their  reality  is  admitted,  there  must  be  some  other  mind,  in 
which  they  exist  during  these  intervals,  as  they  did  exist 
there  before  our  birth,  and  will  exist  after  our  departure. 
Thus,  if  we  deny  the  outward  existence  of  brute  substance, 
we  must  believe  that  a  mind  exists,  which  affects  us   every 


298  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

moment  with  the  ideas  we  perceive.  We  must  believe  in 
a  God.  "  How  great  a  friend  material  substance  hath  been 
to  Atheists  in  all  ages,  it  were  needless  to  relate.  All  their 
monstrous  systems  have  so  visible  and  necessary  a  depen- 
dence on  it,  that  when  this  corner-stone  is  once  removed, 
the  whole  fabric  cannot  choose  but  fall  to  the  ground." 

Thus  far,  we  can  see  nothing  objectionable  in  the  hy- 
pothesis^ "  that  all  the  choir  of  heaven  and  furniture  of  the 
earth  ;  in  a  word,  all  those  bodies  which  compose  the 
mighty  frame  of  the  world,  have  not  any  subsistence  with- 
out a  mind."  It  affords  an  easy  solution  to  all  the  difficul- 
ties respecting  the  creation  of  matter,  for  we  may  at  once 
allow  the  maxim  of  the  skeptic,  "  e  nihilo  nihil  ft,''''  and 
brave  the  consequences  of  the  admission.  The  materialist 
is  silenced,  not  more  by  demonstrating  the  insufficiency  of 
his  argument,  than  by  showing  the  futility  of  his  theory, 
even  if  it  were  received.  We  make  no  progress  by  refer- 
ring the  operations  of  mind  to  matter,  for  we  know  as  much 
of  the  former  as  of  the  latter.  The  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness is  direct,  while  that  of  sensation  is  mediate.  Every 
one  is  conscious  of  thought  and  volition,  and  cannot  doubt 
their  existence  ;  while  the  reality  of  most  qualities  ascribed 
to  matter  is  a  mere  inference  from  certain  effi3cts  discover- 
able in  our  own  minds.  Berkeley,  however,  pushed  this 
argument  too  far,  by  asserting,  that  all  our  knowledge  of 
material  things  was  from  inference.  In  this  way,  he  thought 
to  demonstrate,  that  the  existence  of  matter  was  impossible. 
We  perceive  nothing,  he  argues,  but  ideas  and  sensations, 
and  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose,  that  these  can  exist  oth- 
erwise than  in  mind.  An  idea  cannot  belong  to  an  unthink- 
ing substance,  nor  a  sensation  to  an  unsentient  one.  The 
supposition  that  things  exist  externally,  of  which  our  ideas 
are  copies,  is  equally  inadmissible.  Thinking  can  resemble 
nothing  but  thought ;  an  idea  can  be  like  nothing  but  an- 


BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  299 

Other  idea.  Reid  destroyed  this  argument  entirely,  by  de- 
nying the  premises.  To  assume  at  the  outset,  that  we  per- 
ceive nothing  but  ideas,  is  a  petitio  principii,  for  the  very 
point  of  dispute  concerns  the  immediate  perception  of  out- 
ward things.  Besides,  to  think  and  to  have  an  idea  are 
equivalent  expressions.  The  supposition,  that  there  exists 
in  the  mind  an  object  of  thought  distinct  from  the  act  of 
thinking,  is  entirely  gratuitous.  There  is  a  double  relation, 
indeed,  to  the  external  object  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the 
thinking  subject  on  the  other ;  but  this  double  relation  per- 
tains to  one  and  the  same  modification  of  mind. 

That  the  existence  of  matter  was  impossible,  and  a  belief 
in  it  contradictory  and  absurd,  were  points  that  Reid  suc- 
cessfully contested  with  Berkeley.  But,  though  the  former 
refuted  the  demonstration,  he  left  the  argument  from  proba- 
bilities untouched,  or  rather  opposed  to  it  only  the  universal 
belief  of  mankind.  Hence  the  difference  between  the  two 
was  aptly  summed  up  by  Dr.  Brown.  "  One  bawled  out, 
'  we  must  believe  in  an  outward  world,'  but  added  in  a  whis- 
per, '  we  can  give  no  reason  for  our  belief; '  the  other  cried 
out, '  we  can  give  no  reason  for  such  a  notion,'  and  whis- 
pers, '  I  own  we  cannot  get  rid  of  it.'  "  Such  a  difference 
and  such  a  similarity  of  opinion  will  always  exist.  The 
vulgar  will  always  believe  in  a  dualism  of  substance  and 
spirit,  and,  in  his  common  intercourse  with  the  world,  the 
philosopher  assents  to  this  opinion  almost  against  his  will. 
But  the  latter,  in  his  closet,  tormented  by  the  view  of  prob- 
lems that  he  cannot  solve,  by  the  difficulty  of  explaining 
the  mutual  dependence,  action,  and  reaction  of  two  princi- 
ples, continually  attempts  to  resolve  all  into  one,  to  trace 
every  thing  to  the  single  operation  either  of  matter  or  mind. 
Either  opinion  is  an  assumption,  but  a  very  convenient  one, 
for  if  it  does  not  resolve  the  problems,  it  at  least  removes 
them  out  of  sight.     Since  Berkeley's  time,  spiritualism  has 


300  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

maintained  a  marked  ascendency  with  the  mongers  of  sys- 
tems. Materialism,  after  sustaining  a  vigorous  contest  in 
the  hands  of  Priestley  and  Cabanis,  seems  at  the  present  day 
to  be  almost  annihilated.  The  Scotch  school  essayed  to 
hold  the  balance  between  the  combatants  by  espousing  the 
popular  belief,  and  for  their  comfort  were  told  by  their  more 
aspiring  brethren,  that  their  opinions  formed  no  philosophy 
at  all.  They  shared  the  usual  fate  of  peace-makers,  in 
being  reviled  for  their  timidity  by  both  the  contending 
parties. 

We-  have  seen  with  what  success  Berkeley  applied  his 
system  to  removing  the  objections  of  the  skeptic.  The  im- 
portant point  now  to  be  remarked  is  the  fact,  that  nearly  all 
the  schemes  of  universal  philosophy  recently  invented  are 
identical  in  substance,  though  not  in  form,  with  the  system 
of  Berkeley,  and  that  the  authors  of  them  owe  all  their 
success  in  sweeping  generalization  to  the  adoption  of  his 
opinions.  Idealism,  more  or  less  disguised,  belongs  to  them 
all.  Cousin  expounds  his  scheme  of  it  after  his  usual  fash- 
ion, in  a  style  unmatched  for  brilliancy  and  effect.  He 
considers  all  the  objects  of  sense  merely  as  active  causes, 
or  forces.  "  Change  and  multiply  the  phenomena  of  sen- 
sation," he  argues,  "  as  you  please  ;  as  soon  as  the  Reason 
perceives  them,  it  refers  them  to  a  cause,  to  v/hich  it  attrib- 
utes successively,  not  the  internal  modifications  of  the  sub- 
ject^ but  the  objective  qualities  producing  such  modifications  ; 
that  is  to  say,  it  developes  by  degrees  the  notion  of  a  cause, 
but  does  not  go  beyond  it ;  for  the  properties  of  matter  are 
nothing  but  causes,  and  can  be  known  only  as  such.  The 
external  world  is  only  an  assemblage  of  causes  correspond- 
ing to  our  real  or  possible  sensations.  The  relation  of  these 
causes  to  each  other,  constitutes  the  order  of  nature.  Thus, 
the  world  is  made  of  the  same  stuff  that  we  are,  and  nature 
is  the  sister  of  man.     It  is  active,  living,  animated,  as  he  is. 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  301 

and  its  history  is  a  drama,  like  that  of  humanity."  And 
again,  "  what  Natural  Philosopher,  since  Euler's  time,  con- 
ducts his  researches  with  a  view  to  any  thing  but  forces 
and  laws  ?  Who  now  speaks  of  atoms  ?  Who  considers 
the  existence  even  of  molecules,  as  any  thing  but  a  hypoth- 
esis ?  If  this  fact  is  incontestable,  if  modern  physical  sci- 
ence is  occupied  with  nothing  but  forces  and  laws,  I  adopt 
the  legitimate  conclusion,  that,  in  respect  both  to  its  knowl- 
edge and  its  ignorance,  this  science  does  not  favor  materi- 
alism. It  adopted  spiritualism,  when  it  rejected  every  other 
method  but  that  of  observation  and  induction,  for  these  can 
lead  to  the  knowledge  only  of  forces  and  laws."  It  is  al- 
most superfluous  to  remark,  that  both  the  theory  and  the 
argument  here  are  coincident  with  those  of  Berkeley. 

Kant's  theory  is  the  complement  of  the  systems  maintain- 
ed by  other  Idealists,  while  his  arguments  are  the  reverse 
of  theirs.  The  secondary  qualities  of  matter  had  already 
been  referred  to  their  proper  seat  in  the  mind,  and  were  no 
longer  viewed  as  necessary  attributes  of  outward  substance. 
Their  fleeting  character,  their  dependence  on  the  various 
aspects  in  which  things  are  perceived,  and  their  altered  ap- 
pearance, when  no  change  had  taken  place  in  the  thing 
observed,  but  only  in  the  observer,  were  held  to  establish 
their  non-existence  exterior  to  mind.  Extension,  or  limited 
space,  remained  as  almost  the  only  permanent  quality  in- 
herent in  substance,  as  less  affected  than  others  by  the 
changes  of  the  percipient,  and  therefore  probably  regarded 
as  a  necessary  attribute  of  the  thing  perceived.  To  remove 
this  last  support  to  a  belief  in  the  objective  reality  of  mat- 
ter, Kant  turns  the  argument  the  other  way.  Universal 
and  necessary  notions  cannot  be  furnished  by  experience, 
which  is  concerned  only  with  what  is  transitory,  limited, 
and  casual.  But  the  idea  of  space  is  universal  and  neces- 
sary, is  the  prerequisite  or  condition  of  our  ability  to  con- 
26 


302  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

ceive  of  any  thing  out  of  our  own  minds.  Therefore,  space 
is  not  an  empirical  idea.  It  cannot  be  obtained  from  expe- 
rience, and  must  be  regarded  as  a  law  of  the  understanding, 
or  3.  form  of  the  sensitive  faculty  (sinnlichkeit). 

To  infer  the  non-existence  of  space  from  our  inability  to 
conceive  of  its  non-existence,  to  believe  that  it  belongs  only 
to  the  mind,  because  we  cannot  even  imagine  its  annihila- 
tion as  an  outward  quality,  is  an  argument  perfectly  after 
the  manner  of  Kant.  Yet  on  this  kind  of  reasoning,  the 
whole  "  Criticism  of  Pure  Reason  "  is  established.  What- 
ever claims  it  may  possess  to  be  generally  received,  in  this 
case,  it  evidently  does  not  support  his  conclusion.  Space 
may  be  the  form  of  our  belief  in  outward  substance,  for  it 
is  not  merely  a  necessary  attrihute,  but  the  distinguishing 
element,  the  substratum  in  our  complex  idea  of  matter. 
We  cannot  believe  in  the  existence  of  any  thing,  without 
also  admitting  the  existence  of  that  quality,  which  makes  it 
what  it  is.  We  cannot  have  the  idea  of  a  man,  for  instance, 
without  uniting  to  it  the  conception  of  a  certain  shape.  But 
space  is  not  a  universal  form  of  the  whole  sensitive  faculty, 
for  there  are  many  sensations,  —  those  of  odors,  tastes,  and 
sounds,  —  that  do  not  involve,  or  even  originally  suggest, 
this  idea.  Still  farther,  we  acquire  the  notion  of  externality, 
or  outness,  before  we  are  acquainted  with  extension.  A  child 
thinks  of  existence  foreign  to  itself,  —  to  speak  technically, 
tu  tU  ^'T^.  ':'-^,*tf  distinguishes  between  the  me  and  the  not-me^  when  it  has 
'^'^'^'^  rio  conception  of  space.  The  idea  of  expansion  is  conse- 
quent on  the  belief  subsequently  formed,  that  a  number  of 
objects  exist  independently  of  self.  Space  then  comes  to 
be  necessarily  connected  in  the  mind  with  the  idea  of  ex- 
ternality. But  this  necessary  connexion  no  more  proves, 
that  space  exists  only  in  the  mind,  than  our  necessary  attri- 
bution of  three  angles   to  a  figure  of  three  sides   demon- 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  303 

strates,  that  these  angles  have  only  a  subjective  character, 
and  do  not  exist  in  the  figure  itself. 

But  we  leave  the  argument  in  order  to  examine  the  con- 
sequences of  admitting  the  doctrine.  It  is  evident,  that  the 
theory  is  consistent  only  with  a  scheme  of  pure  Idealism. 
The  popular  belief,  that  material  objects  exist  in  space,  is 
at  least  intelligible  and  consistent  with  itself.  Whether  ad- 
equate proof  can  be  adduced  in  its  support  or  not,  it  in- 
volves no  absurdity.  But  deny  the  external  reality  of  space, 
and  you  not  only  destroy  the  belief  in  an  outward  world, 
but  render  the  very  conception  of  such  an  existence  impos- 
sible. On  Kant's  own  principles,  we  cannot  form  any  idea 
of  material  substance,  into  which  extension  or  limited  space 
does  not  enter ;  we  cannot  believe  in  the  outward  existence 
of  that  substance,  unless  as  surrounded  by  space.  To  unite 
the  two  points  in  one  system,  to  assert  that  space  exists  only 
in  the  mind,  and  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  the  reality 
of  outward  things,  is  an  attempt  worthy  the  genius  of  Kant. 
His  demonstration  of  the  latter  point,  with  the  annexed 
comment  on  the  theory  of  Berkeley,  is  so  characteristic, 
that  we  submit  it  to  our  readers.  Our  translation  claims  no 
other  merit,  than  that  of  strict  fidelity  to  the  original. 

"  Idealism  in  respect  to  matter  is  that  system,  which  declares, 
that  the  existence  of  objects  in  space  out  of  ourselves  is  either 
doubtful  and  not  susceptible  of  proof,  or  that  it  is  wholly  unfound- 
ed and  impossible.  The  former  is  the  problematic  Idealism  of  Des- 
cartes, who  held  that  only  one  empirical  assertion  {lam,  or  /  ex- 
ist) could  not  be  doubted.  The  latter  is  the  dogmatic  Idealism  of 
Berkeley,  who  maintained  that  space  and  every  thing,  with  which 
space  is  connected  as  a  necessary  condition  of  its  being,  were  in 
themselves  impossible ;  and  therefore,  the  existence  of  objects  in 
space  was  a  mere  delusion.  Dogmatic  Idealism  is  unavoidable,  if 
we  regard  space  as  a  property  belonging  to  things  in  themselves  ; 
on  this  hypothesis,  space  and  every  thing  existing  in  it  is  a  nonen- 
tity ( Unding).     But  the  grounds  of  this  Idealism  are  taken  away 


304  BERKELEY   AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

in  our  system  of  transcendental  cesthetics.  Problematic  Idealism, 
which  asserts  nothing  but  our  inability  to  prove  from  immediate 
experience  any  existence  but  our  own,  is  agreeable  to  reason,  and 
conforms  to  an  important  rule  in  philosophy,  never  to  permit  a  de- 
cisive judgment,  till  satisfactory  evidence  has  been  discovered. 
The  required  proof  must  therefore  establish  this  point ;  that  we 
have  experience  of  external  things,  and  not  merely  an  imagination 
of  them.  This  can  be  done  in  no  other  way,  but  by  proving,  that 
even  our  internal  experience,  admittted  as  certain  by  Descartes,  is 
possible  only  by  assuming  external  experience  beforehand." 

"  Theorem.  The  mere  consciousness,  determined  empirically, 
of  my  own  existence  proves  the  existence  of  objects  in  space  out 
of  myself." 

"  Proof.  I  am  conscious  of  my  own  existence  as  determined  in 
time.  But  every  determination  in  time  presupposes  something 
fixed  and  permanent  {etwas  Beharrliches)  in  perception.  But  this 
fixed  and  permanent  object  cannot  be  any  thing  in  me,  for  by  its 
means  only  can  my  existence  in  time  be  determined.  Therefore, 
the  perception  of  this  fixed  and  permanent  object  is  possible  only 
by  means  of  something  out  of  myself,  and  not  by  any  bare  mental 
representation  or  idea  of  such  things  existing  externally.  Conse- 
quently, the  determination  of  my  being  in  time  is  possible  only 
through  the  existence  of  real  things,  which  I  perceive  out  of  my 
own  mind.  But  consciousness  in  time  is  necessarily  connected 
with  a  consciousness  of  the  possibility  of  this  determination  in  time  ; 
therefore,  it  is  also  necessarily  connected  with  the  existence  of 
things  out  of  myself,  as  the  condition  of  the  determination  in  time; 
that  is,  the  consciousness  of  my  own  existence  is  at  the  same  time 
an  immediate  consciousness  of  the  existence  of  other  things  out  of 
myself." 

"  Observation.  In  the  foregoing  proof,  one  may  perceive  that 
the  tables  are  turned  upon  the  Idealists,  and  their  own  weapons 
directed  with  greater  justice  against  themselves.  They  assume, 
that  the  only  immediate  experience  is  the  internal,  and  from  this 
we  know  external  things  only  by  inference  ;  but,  as  at  all  times, 
when  we  reason  from  given  effects  to  a  determinate  cause,  the 
inference  is  not  to  be  depended  upon,  because  there  may  be  in  our 
own  minds  the  cause  of  those  conceptions,  which  we,  perhaps 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  305 

falsely,  ascribe  to  external  objects.  But  here  it  is  proved,  that  ex- 
ternal experience  is  properly  immediate,  and  on  this  depends  the 
possibility,  not  indeed  of  the  consciousness  of  our  existence,  but 
of  the  determination  of  this  existence  in  time  ;  that  is,  on  external 
experience  depends  the  possibility  of  internal  experience."  * 

These  are  profound  sayings,  — 

"  fpcovavia  ovvstoXgiv  '  eg 
/Ik  TO  nav  eQi^rjVeojv 

He  who  does  not  understand  the  proof,  may  rest  assured 
that  the  fault  is  in  his  own  want  of  comprehension,  and  that 
he  has  no  genius  for  metaphysics.  He  who  does  not  admit 
its  conclusiveness,  is  an  impracticable  infidel,  and  we  will 
have  nothing  farther  to  say  to  him. 

We  hardly  know  of  an  opinion  more  universal  and  more 
unfounded,  than  that  which  ascribes  skepticism  to  the  phi- 
losophy of  Berkeley,  and  the  refutation  of  skepticism  to  that 
of  Kant.  We  have  seen  the  total  injustice  of  the  former 
imputation.  For  the  existence  of  the  latter  opinion,  we  can 
only  account  by  the  fact,  that  the  doctrines  of  the  German 
philosopher  are  so  imperfectly  known.  His  answer  to 
Hume's  doctrine  of  causality  amounts  to  no  more  than  the 
same  vigorous  protest  against  it,  which  was  entered  by 
Reid,  and  to  a  statement  of  the  fact,  also  noticed  by  the 
Scotch  philosopher,  of  our  necessary  belief,  founded  on  the 
very  constitution  of  the  mind,  in  the  connexion  between 
cause  and  effect.  With  this  exception,  Kant's  theory  con- 
sists in  an  abandonment  of  the  whole  ground  to  the  skeptic, 
and  in  a  fancied  demonstration  of  the  impossibility  of  an- 
swering his  doubts.  To  consider  the  operation  of  outward 
things  on  the  mind,  believing  the  former  to  be  well  known, 
and  studying  the  constitution  of  the   latter  through  their 

*  Critik  der  reinen  Vernunft.     Siebente  Auflage,  pp.  200  -  202. 


306  BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

effects  upon  it,  was  the  old  method  in  philosophy.  The 
German  metaphysician  reversed  this  process.  He  looked 
upon  the  outward  world  as  modified  by  our  own  mental 
constitution,  and  regarded  its  phenomenal  laws  as  the  mere 
expression  of  our  intellectual  principles.  The  cognitive 
faculty  of  man  contains  two  elements,  the  aptitude  to  re- 
ceive impressions  from  without,  or  receptivity^  and  sponta- 
neity^ or  the  power  of  reacting  upon  and  modifying  these 
impressions.  One  who  had  never  seen  the  face  of  nature 
but  through  green  spectacles,  would  undoubtedly  believe 
that  the  color  of  things  in  themselves  was  green.  He  could 
not  admit  the  possibility,  that  they  should  have  any  other 
color.  At  least,  he  would  retain  this  mistaken  opinion,  till 
he  had  studied  the  principles  of  Transcendentalism,  which 
would  fain  teach  him,  if  it  had  the  power,  to  analyze  his 
faculty  of  vision,  and  to  distinguish  in  his  perception  the 
objective  element,  or  that  quality  really  belonging  to  the 
outward  thing,  from  the  subjective  element,  or  the  property 
superadded  to  the  thing  by  his  manner  of  looking  at  it. 
The  illustration  is  a  homely  one,  but  we  cannot  find  a  bet- 
ter. The  human  mind,  on  Kant's  theory,  is  like  the  green 
glasses  of  this  unfortunate  individual.  It  invests  the  objects 
of  its  knowledge  with  its  own  properties,  and  blends  these 
so  intimately  with  qualities  existing  in  the  object  itself,  that 
a  separation  is  impossible.  The  illustration  fails  here.  The 
person  in  question  might  remove  the  impediment  to  perfect 
vision,  and  then  the  landscape  would  appear  to  him  in  its 
real  colors.  But  we  can  acquire  knowledge  only  through 
the  mind.  Imperfect  and  deceptive  as  the  instrument  is, 
constantly  leading  us  to  ascribe  its  own  defects  to  the  con- 
stitution of  things  without,  we  can  obtain  no  other.  "  It 
sounds  strange  indeed  at  first,"  says  the  master  himself, 
"  but  it  is  not  the  less  certain,  when  I  say,  in  respect  to  the 


1 


BERKELEY    AND    HIS    PHILOSOPHY.  307 

original  laws  of  the  Understanding,  that  it  does  not  derive 
them  from  Nature,  but  imposes  them  upon  Nature."  * 

The  old  definition  of  truth,  the  object  of  former  metaphy- 
sical research,  made  it  consist  in  the  conformity  of  our 
ideas  with  the  things  which  they  represented.  According 
to  Kant,  this  inquiry  must  be  abandoned,  for  the  answer 
must  ever  be  without  our  reach.  The  idea  and  the  arche- 
type, subjectivity  and  objectivity,  matter  and  mind,  are  so 
inextricably  interwoven,  that  no  human  power  can  separate 
them  ;  otherwise,  intellect  could  resolve  a  difficulty,  of  \ 
which  its  own  operations  are  the  cause.  It  is  obvious,  that 
this  theory  is  the  very  essence  of  skepticism,  for  it  resolves 
every  thing  into  doubt.  Gladly  must  its  ingenuous  disciple 
take  refuge  in  a  scheme  of  positive  unbelief,  the  utter  tor- 
por of  which  would  be  far  preferable  to  the  feverish  anxiety 
consequent  on  inquiries,  that  can  never  be  abandoned  and 
never  answered.  It  is  a  vain  attempt,  to  limit  our  curiosity 
to  a  mere  examination  of  the  laws  of  mind,  of  the  confor- 
mity of  thought  with  mental  principles  ;  to  reduce  all  the 
articles  of  creeds  that  transcend  the  immediate  province  of 
the  intellect,  to  objects  of  faith,  but  not  of  knowledge.  An 
irresistible  impulse  carries  us  beyond  these  boundaries. 
The  existence  of  this  impulse  is  recognised  in  the  Trans- 
cendental philosophy,  but  the  possibility  of  gratifying  it  is 
denied.  The  oldest  subjects  of  philosophical  investigation, 
God,  liberty,  immortality,  &c.,  as  they  transcend  the  limits 
of  immediate  mental  experience,  are  beyond  the  reach  of 
our  faculties.  The  arguments  are  presented  on  each  side, 
and  declared  to  be  of  equal  force.  No  decision  then  is 
possible.  The  several  modes  of  proving  the  existence  of  a 
God,  reduced  by  this  nomenclature  to  the  ontological,  the 
cosmological,  and   the    physico -theological   argument,  are 

*  Prolegomena  zu  einerjeden  kunftigen  metaphysik. —  p.  113. 


308  BERKELEY    AND   HIS    PHILOSOPHY. 

separately  examined,  and  all  held  to  be  indecisive  of  the 
question.  The  Transcendentalist  maintains,  that  this  pro- 
cedure shelters  these  great  interests  of  man  from  the  attacks 
of  reasoning,  since  the  assailant,  no  less  than  the  supporter, 
is  silenced.  It  does  indeed  shelter  them,  by  classifying 
them  with  all  other  arbitrary  hypotheses,  that  can  neither 
be  proved  nor  disproved.  The  results  of  the  whole  system 
may  be  well  summed  up  in  the  language  of  its  founder. 
The  province  of  the  understanding  "  is  an  island,  inclosed 
by  Nature  herself  in  unalterable  limits.  It  is  the  land  of 
Truth  (an  attractive  term)  surrounded  by  a  wide  and  stormy 
ocean,  the  proper  abode  of  delusion,  where  many  a  cloud- 
bank  and  rapidly  melting  ice-field  assume  a  false  appear- 
ance of  land,  and  ever  deceiving  with  empty  hopes  the 
voyager  intent  upon  new  discoveries,  involve  him  in  adven- 
tures that  he  can  never  abandon,  and  never  bring  to  an 
end."* 

But  we  have  no  room  to  pursue  this  subject  further,  and 
we  gladly  return  to  Berkeley.  All  the  philosophical  works 
of  this  writer,  that  we  have  yet  noticed,  with  the  exception 
of  the  "  Analyst,"  were  the  productions  of  his  youth.  He 
gave  his  name  to  some  of  the  most  important  speculations  in 
philosophy,  that  have  ever  gained  the  attention  of  the  curi- 
ous, before  he  had  attained  the  age  of  thirty.  His  sense  of 
duty  compelled  him  to  give  the  vigor  of  his  manhood  to  ex- 
ertions more  directly  affecting  the  immediate  interest  of  his 
countrymen,  and  the  world  in  general.  When  grown  old, 
however,  his  mind  naturally  reverted  to  the  studies  of  his 
early  years,  and  the  fruit  of  his  meditations  appeared  in  a 
singular  work,  that  united  the  characteristics  of  the  philan- 
thropist and  the  scholar.  As  the  infirmities  of  age  were 
stealing  upon  him,  he  had  received  much  benefit  from  a 

*  Critik  der  reinen  Vernunji.  —  p.  214.  J-Z./^-^-. 


BERKELEY   AND   HIS   rHILOSOPHY.  309 

medicine,  the  use  of  which  he  had  learned  in  America. 
An  exaggerated  view  of  its  efficacy  in  all  cases  of  disease 
prompted  him  to  communicate  the  secret  to  the  world,  and 
he  published  "  Siris  ;  a  Chain  of  Philosophical  Reflections 
and  Inquiries  concerning  the  Virtues  of  Tar  Water."  It  is 
a  fanciful  work,  reviving  the  method  of  the  ancients  in  a 
strange  mixture  of  physical  and  metaphysical  research. 
The  medicine  is  recommended,  of  course,  as  a  panacea, 
and  the  theory  of  its  virtues  is  expounded  in  a  manner,  that, 
in  point  of  scientific  accuracy,  reminds  one  of  Bacon's  most 
unfortunate  inquiry  concerning  heat.  From  a  discussion  of 
the  subtile  properties  and  fluids  of  vegetable  life,  the  author 
passes  to  the  speculations  of  the  ancients  on  animal  spirits, 
the  soul,  the  anima  mundi,  and  brings  out  the  whole  store  of 
his  multifarious  classical  knowledge.  Valueless  as  a  scien- 
tific production,  the  work  is  still  attractive  from  its  fascina- 
ting style,  the  stock  of  curious  learning,  and  the  light  it 
casts  on  the  character  of  its  amiable  author.  As  a  written 
composition,  indeed,  it  is  superior  to  all  his  other  publica- 
tions, for  it  would  be  difficult  to  produce  a  finer  model  of  a 
style,  at  once  elegant,  clear,  and  richly  illustrated,  without 
tawdriness  or  affectation.  Though  Berkeley  survived  the 
appearance  of  this  work  for  several  years,  his  health  was  so 
much  broken,  that  we  may  regard  the  preparation  of  it  as 
the  closing  effort  of  a  life  faithfully  and  effectually  devoted 
to  the  service  of  God  and  man. 


310  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 


VIII. 

ELEMENTS   OF   MORAL   SCIENCE.* 

The  well-earned  reputation  of  Dr.  Wayland,  as  a  writer 
and  a  moralist,  ensures  a  ready  and  respectful  acceptance 
of  any  new  production  of  his  pen.  He  has  set  an  honor- 
able example  to  literary  men  in  the  employment  of  time 
and  talent.  Charged  with  all  the  duties  appertaining  to  the 
Presidency  of  a  very  respectable  literary  institution,  and 
actively  engaged  in  the  details  of  instruction,  he  has  yet 
found  time  for  the  preparations  of  two  manuals  |  of  sci- 
ence, every  line  of  which  evinces  care  and  patient  thought. 
We  are  indebted  to  him  for  the  only  considerable  treatise 
on  Moral  Science,  of  which  this  country  has  to  boast.  The 
natural  partiality  for  an  American  work  on  a  subject,  to 
which  our  countrymen  have  hitherto  paid  little  attention, 
would  secure  to  it  no  little  favor,  were  it  less  able  to  stand 
on  its  intrinsic  merits.  But  we  risk  nothing  by  the  asser- 
tion, that  this  treatise  and  Mackintosh's  "  Review "  have 
done  more  for  Ethical  Philosophy,  than  any  other  publica- 
tions of  the  present  century  in  our  language.  We  speak 
not  now  of  the  opinions,  which  Dr.  Wayland  has  advanced, 
to  some   of  which  we   object,  and   shall   take  occasion  to 

*  From  the  Christian  Examiner,  for  July,  1837. 

The  Elements  of  Moral  Science.  By  Francis  Wayland,  D.  D., 
President  of  Brown  University,  and  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy. 
Boston.     1836. 

t  Besides  the  work  under  review,  Dr.  Wayland  has  published  a 
text-book  of  Political  Economy. 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  311 

express  our  objections  with  perfect  freedom.  We  refer 
particularly  to  the  literary  execution  of  the  work,  and  to 
the  spirit  in  which  it  is  written.  It  is  marked  by  great 
originality  of  thought,  clearness  and  force  of  argument, 
and  extraordinary  vigor  and  purity  of  style.  Perhaps  a 
mode  of  reasoning  less  abstract  and  severe  might  have 
added  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  book,  and  greater  fulness 
of  illustration  have  been  used  without  any  loss  of  precision 
or  depth. 

It  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the  publication  of  this  work  will 
rescue  the  science,  of  which  it  treats,  from  unmerited  neg- 
lect in  our  schools  and  colleges.  The  present  is  not  the 
time,  ours  is  not  the  country,  in  which  we  can  safely  give 
up  the  study  of  first  principles,  and  trust  the  formation  of 
character  to  the  exigencies  of  active  life.  We  hold  that 
conscience  maybe  educated,  —  nay,  that  it  requires  edu- 
cation ;  that,  by  accustoming  the  mind  to  dwell  on  ques- 
tions of  casuistry,  to  look  at  the  motives  of  actors  rather 
than  at  the  consequences  of  actions,  and  to  try  doubtful 
cases  rather  by  general  rules  than  by  particular  results,  a 
healthy  state  of  moral  feeling  may  be  induced,  or  the 
original  and  pure  impulses  of  the  better  part  of  human 
nature  may  be  cherished  and  confirmed.  If  this  work  be 
not  systematically  performed  in  early  life,  to  what  in- 
fluences shall  we  trust  the  protection  and  improvement  of 
the  moral  faculty  ?  To  the  calls  of  business,  in  which  the 
auri  sacra  fames  is  for  ever  at  war  with  scrupulous  justice, 
and  trivial  but  frequent  violations  of  moral  law  are  sanc- 
tioned by  custom  ?  Or  to  the  struggles  of  the  political 
arena,  where  it  is  well  for  the  combatants,  if  in  the  heat 
of  the  contest  they  do  not  forget,  that  such  a  thing  as 
moral  law  has  any  existence  ?  By  imparting  knowledge, 
we  create  a  power  of  fearful  magnitude,  and  the  responsi- 


312  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

bility  for  its  misuse  rests  not  more  on  those  who  do,  than 
on  those  who  might  have  prevented,  the  wrong. 

The  fact,  that  the  community  is  not  fully  sensible  of  the 
importance  of  these  studies,  only  places  in  a  stronger  light 
the  necessity  of  fostering  them  in  the  higher  institutions  of 
learning.  To  do  otherwise  would  be  to  make  these  bodies 
follow,  and  not  guide,  public  opinion.  The  interests  of 
learning  can  be  safely  intrusted  only  to  the  learned.  The 
public  cannot  appreciate  the  gradual  but  effective  workings 
of  the  higher  modes  of  education,  and  in  the  attempt  to 
make  them  productive  of  more  immediate  and  tangible 
good,  would  probably  destroy  their  efficiency  altogether. 
Doubtless,  a  knowledge  of  French  and  Italian  is  held  in 
higher  estimation  in  our  fashionable  circles,  than  great  skill 
in  determining  casuistical  doubts  ;  and  a  merchant's  opera- 
tions on  Change  would  not  be  much  facilitated  by  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments.  The 
public,  therefore,  are  not  likely  to  call  with  much  earnest- 
ness for  improved  modes  of  instruction  in  Moral  Philoso- 
phy, and  did  the  matter  depend  on  them  alone,  the  science 
might  sleep  in  as  undisturbed  repose  for  centuries  to  come, 
as  Aristotle's  Logic  has  done  for  centuries  past.  This  last 
branch  of  learning,  we  may  remark  in  passing,  seems  to 
have  revived  of  late,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  those 
who  are  not  accustomed  to  watch  the  cycles  of  popular 
opinion  respecting  matters  of  knowledge.  It  has  revived 
for  the  same  reasons,  which,  among  others,  should  procure 
greater  attention  to  be  paid  to  the  study  of  Ethics.  The 
discovery  has  been  made,  that  proper  discipline  of  mind  is 
at  least  of  equal  value  with  a  large  fund  of  practical  infor- 
mation. Syllogistic  lore  may  be  useless,  and  worse  than 
useless,  if  the  proficient  be  induced  to  dress  up  matters  of 
common  reasoning  in  a  scholastic  garb,  and  enunciate  his 
premises  and  conclusions  according  to  the  strict  rules  of 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  313 

art.  But  it  may  be  highly  valuable,  in  the  veriest  utilitarian 
sense,  if  it  lead  to  an  increased  power  of  analysis,  to  great- 
er acuteness  in  detecting  fallacy,  and  a  more  cautious  re- 
gard to  the  ambiguity  of  terms.  So  moral  subjects  afford 
the  fairest  field  for  the  application  of  moral  reasoning,  and 
the  intellect  cannot  fail  to  be  improved,  while  the  affections 
are  cultivated,  and  the  conscience  enlightened  and  made 
strong. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  neglect  of  Moral  Science  in  our 
seminaries,  and  the  term  will  hardly  appear  strong,  if  we 
look  at  the  present  mode  of  instruction  in  this  branch.  Re- 
citations memoriter  from  the  text  of  such  a  moralist  as  Pa- 
ley  will  do  little  towards  the  formation  of  sound  principles, 
or  the  cultivation  of  taste  for  the  pursuit.  A  book  is  studied 
instead  of  the  subject,  and  the  memory  is  strengthened  at 
the  expense  of  the  understanding.  A  slavish  habit  of  mind 
is  induced.  The  student  readily  accepts  conclusions  sup- 
ported by  such  admirable  clearness  of  style,  and  by  an  un- 
rivalled power  of  illustration.  Never  was  there  a  stronger 
instance  of  the  force  which  reasoning  borrows  from  perspi- 
cuity and  method.  Never  a  more  unhappy  application  of 
these  qualities  to  the  support  of  error.  Blinded  by  the  au- 
thor's candor  and  suavity  of  manner,  the  pupil  will  hardly 
admit  that  the  positions  can  be  controverted. 

The  instruction  afforded  is  not  only  unsound,  but  imper- 
fect. Hardly  a  hint  is  given,  that  the  subject  embraces  the 
most  curious  problems,  which  have  exercised  the  master 
minds  of  antiquity,  and  which  the  acutest  of  modern  phi- 
losophers have  discussed  with  various  degrees  of  success. 
The  speculations  of  the  ancients  are  the  more  instructive, 
from  the  remarkable  exemplification,  afforded  by  their  lives 
and  characters,  of  the  workings  of  their  principles.  Re- 
ligion afforded  them  no  positive  precepts  to  modify  the  op- 
erative power  of  speculation.  Their  principles  affected  not 
27 


314  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

only  their  writings,  but  their  lives.  They  acted  what  they 
taught.  The  cynic  lived  in  his  tub,  and  growled  at  the 
follies  and  vices  of  the  world.  The  skeptic  would  not  turn 
aside  from  his  path,  though  a  precipice  lay  before  him.  The 
stoic  quailed  not,  though  the  fatal  mandate  from  the  empe- 
ror had  arrived,  and  the  blood  was  already  flowing  into  the 
bath  from  his  opened  veins.  The  epicurean  remained  aloof 
from  public  cares,  wandered  in  his  gardens,  and  surrender- 
ed himself  to  the  charms  of  literature  and  love.  Compare 
the  characters  of  Cato  and  Sallust,  of  Pomponius  Atticus 
and  Brutus,  and  you  detect  at  once  the  different  schools  to 
which  they  belonged,  and  estimate  the  merits  of  the  respec- 
tive systems  from  their  practical  effects.  Mackintosh  calls 
the  five  hundred  years,  which  elapsed  from  Carneades  to 
Constantino,  the  greatest  trial  of  systems  which  the  world 
has  witnessed. 

Consistency  is  not  so  highly  prized  among  the  moderns. 
The  truth  of  opinions  is  estimated  by  other  tests  than  the 
conformity  between  them  and  the  lives  of  their  supporters. 
Public  opinion  tyrannizes,  and  the  dread  of  singularity,  aris- 
ing from  the  increased  power  of  fashion,  brings  the  actions 
of  men  to  the  same  standard,  however  much  their  doctrines 
vary.  The  lives  of  skeptics  and  scoffers  too  frequently  put 
to  shame  the  professions  of  the  more  orthodox  in  point  of 
opinion ;  the  bigoted,  the  selfish,  and  the  uncharitable  m.ay 
take  a  lesson  even  from  the  infidel  Hume.  The  common 
rules  of  morality  are  too  generally  approved,  to  admit  of 
individuals  violating  them  with  impunity  ;  and  the  founders 
of  vicious  systems  are  interested  to  show,  in  their  own  per- 
sons at  least,  that  their  principles  lead  not  necessarily  to 
vicious  practices.  With  their  followers,  however,  this  con- 
sideration holds  not  to  an  equal  extent ;  and  among  them, 
corrupt  doctrines  commonly  produce  their  appropriate  fruit. 
To  confine  the  student  of  morals,  therefore,  to  the  knowl- 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  315 

edge  of  a  single  system,  is  to  expose  him  to  the  assaults  of 
error  and  sophistry,  wherever  he  may  chance  to  encounter 
them,  and  when  memory  and  habit  will  be  too  weak  to  re- 
sist the  seductions  of  vice,  accompanied  by  an  opiate  to  the 
conscience  and  the  understanding. 

We  believe,  therefore,  that  Dr.  Wayland  has  judged  ill  in 
excluding  from  his  work  any  notice  of  the  opinions  of  other 
moralists.  Admitting,  "  that  a  work  which  should  exhibit 
what  was  true,  would  be  more  desirable  than  one  which 
should  point  out  what  was  exploded,  discuss  what  was  doubt- 
ful, or  disprove  what  was  false,"  we  may  yet  question  the 
power  of  any  one  writer  to  determine  the  truth  to  the  equal 
satisfaction  of  different  minds.  The  history  of  Ethics  is  in 
itself  a  part  of  the  science.  An  enlarged  and  generous 
plan  of  instruction  would  be,  to  lay  open  before  the  pupil 
the  whole  field,  instead  of  confining  him  to  a  single  point 
of  view,  and  to  trust  somewhat  to  the  powers  of  his  own 
understanding  for  the  separation  of  truth  from  error.  There 
is  hardly  any  system  of  morals  which  does  not  contain  some 
glimpse  of  truth  peculiar  to  itself,  and  the  attempt  to  collect 
these  scattered  lights  must  conduce  to  liberality  and  strength 
of  mind.  Nor  would  the  advantage  be  slight,  if  such  a  plan 
of  study  tended  only  to  incite  the  curiosity  of  the  student, 
and  led  him  to  seek  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
writings  of  Butler,  Hutcheson,  Adam  Smith,  and  others, 
who  have  labored  effectually  for  the  improvement  of  the 
science. 

But  we  are  detaining  our  readers  from  such  farther  ac- 
quaintance with  the  work  before  us,  as  may  be  gained  from 
a  brief  outline  of  Dr.  Wayland's  system.  Proceeding  from 
the  acknowledged  fact,  that  all  human  actions  are  either 
right  or  wrong,  and  that  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the  agent 
depends  on  the  intention  with  which  the  act  is  committed, 
our  author  enters  into  the  inquiry  respecting  the  source  of 


316  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

moral  obligation.  We  are  bound  to  practise  virtue,  because 
such  is  the  Divine  will.  "  The  Will  of  God  alone  is  suffi- 
cient to  create  the  obligation  to  obedience  in  all  his  crea- 
tures ;  and  this  Will  of  itself  precludes  every  other  inqui- 
ry." We  stand  in  various  relations  to  all  sentient  beings. 
From  the  knowledge  of  these  relations  arises  necessarily 
and  immediately  a  consciousness  of  moral  obligation.  But 
the  relation  in  which  we  stand  to  the  Deity  is  infinitely 
more  important  and  solemn  than  any  other  ;  and  the  cor- 
responding obligation  accordingly  involves  and  transcends 
all  other  duties.  We  are  bound  to  entertain  towards  our 
fellow-beings,  not  merely  such  dispositions  as  arise  from  a 
knowledge  of  the  ties  which  bind  us  to  them,  but  such  as 
are  appointed  by  His  will. 

Actions  presuppose  powers.  We  perceive  the  existence 
and  qualities  of  material  things,  and  are  therefore  said  to 
have  the  power  of  perception.  Indeed,  to  see  and  to  pos- 
sess the  faculty  of  vision  are  synonymous  phrases.  It  is 
admitted,  that  all  can  discern  the  moral  quality  of  actions, 
—  can  distinguish  to  a  certain  extent  between  right  and 
wrong.  We  possess  then  the  power  of  moral  discernment, 
call  it  a  conscience,  a  moral  sense,  or  what  you  please. 
The  term  conscience  is  perhaps  the  least  objectionable,  and 
as  such  is  adopted  by  Dr.  Wayland.  If  the  discrepances 
between  the  moral  decisions  of  various  nations  be  alleged 
against  the  existence  of  such  a  faculty,  it  is  answered,  that 
the  difference  relates  to  the  mode  in  which  the  power  acts ; 
and  the  objector,  so  far  from  controverting,  admits  the  fact, 
that  all  people  possess  this  power,  however  variously  exert- 
ed. And  the  difference  becomes  very  slight,  if  we  look, 
not  at  the  actions  themselves,  but  at  the  intentions  with 
which  they  are  committed.  Nowhere  is  it  considered  right 
to  intend  the  misery  of  parents,  or  the  unprovoked  destruc- 
tion of  our  fellow-beings. 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  317 

Conscience  has  both  a  directive  and  an  impelling  power. 
It  points  out  the  proper  path,  and  urges  us  to  continue  in  it. 
After  the  act  is  performed,  conscience  causes  remorse  or 
self-gratulation,  according  as  its  monitions  have  been  slight- 
ed or  obeyed.  The  various  impulses,  of  which  human  na- 
ture is  susceptible,  differ  not  only  in  strength,  but  in  author- 
ity ;  and  conscience  is  the  most  authoritative  of  all,  though 
it  may  sometimes  be  the  weakest.  The  dictates  of  appe- 
tite yield  to  those  of  self-love,  when  we  are  convinced,  that 
the  indulgence  of  a  desire,  however  strong,  for  a  particular 
'kind  of  food,  would  be  injurious  to  our  bodily  health.  But 
self-love  submits  to  conscience,  when  it  appears  that  a  par- 
ticular action,  which  would  promote  our  own  interests, 
would  materially  injure  those  of  our  fellow  beings.  Again 
we  pity  the  brute,  when  it  injures  its  fellows  ;  but  man, 
who  wrongs  his  brother,  is  condemned.  The  one  is  guided 
only  by  instinct,  the  other  by  conscience,  a  higher  and 
clearer  impulse.  A  third  argument  for  the  supremacy  of 
the  moral  faculty,  drawn  from  a  consideration  of  the  pur- 
poses for  which  man  was  probably  created,  is  ingeniously 
and  forcibly  put  ;  but  for  a  knowledge  of  it,  we  must  refer 
our  readers  to  the  book  itself. 

With  respect  to  the  improvement  of  conscience,  the  gen- 
eral position  is  established,  that  it  follows  the  law  of  habit. 
Both  its  directive  and  impelling  power,  and  its  sensibility 
are  strengthened  by  use  and  weakened  by  disuse.  As  the 
taste  is  improved  by  familiarity  with  the  finest  models  of 
art,  so  the  moral  faculty  is  rendered  more  nice  and  dis- 
criminating by  frequent  consideration  of  characters  of  the 
highest  excellence.  On  the  other  hand,  whatever  leads  to 
frequent  contemplation  of  vice,  and  fills  the  imagination 
with  impure  conceptions,  cannot  fail  to  injure  the  delicacy 
of  moral  perception,  and  to  induce  habits  of  sinful  indul- 
gence. Some  excellent  rules  for  moral  conduct,  derived 
27# 


318  ELEMENTS    OF    MOKAL    SCIENCE. 

from  these  remarks,  form  one  of  the  most  valuable  portions 
of  the  work. 

We  cannot  say  as  much  in  praise  of  the  chapter  on  the 
nature  of  virtue  in  itself,  and  as  it  exists  in  imperfect  be- 
ings. The  definition  of  virtue  is  an  improper  one,  and  the 
conclusions  drawn  from  it  appear  to  us  equally  degrading 
and  false.  But  we  reserve  our  specific  objections  for  anoth- 
er place. 

Human  happiness  is   defined  to  consist  in  the  "  gratifica- 
tion of  our  desires  within  the   limits   assigned  to  them  by 
our  Creator."     Passion  may  lead   to  the   transgression  of 
these  limits,  by  blinding  us  to   the  superior  importance  of 
ulterior  and    permanent  benefits,  when  compared  with  im- 
mediate  good.     Even  self-love,  a  higher  impulse,  cannot 
lead  us  to  subject  self-interest  to  the  welfare  of  others,  and 
thus  to  answer  the  intentions  of  the  Divine  Being,  as  evinc- 
ed in  the   constitution  of  society,  or  rather  of  man's  social 
nature.     Conscience  can  only  create  the  desire  of  fulfilling 
)  those  obligations,  which  arise  from  known  relations ;  it  does 
(  not  point  out  any  other  relations,  than  those  which  intellect 
(  discovers,  nor  can  it,  always'isuggest  the  mode  by  which  an 
obligation  may  be  fully  discharged.     But  pain  and  misery, 
by  the  very  constitution  of  things,  are  annexed  to  the  viola- 
•    tion  of  right ;  whether  the  doer  is  conscious  of  the  wrong, 
}  or  is  rendered  irresponsible  from  his  ignorance  of  the  rela- 
tions whence  the  duty  arises.     Hence  there  is  a  necessity 
for  additional  moral  light,  which  can  be  obtained  only  from 
natural  and  revealed  religion. 

Natural  religion  teaches  us  our  duty,  by  leading  us  to 
consider  the  consequences  of  acts.  Taking  for  granted  the 
existence  and  benevolence  of  the  Deity,  we  may  rest  as- 
sured, that  whatever  promotes  our  individual  weal,  and  ad- 
vances the  interests  of  society,  is  agreeable  to  His  will. 
Common  sense,  however,  directs  our  inquiry  in  this  case. 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  319 

not  to  the  results  of  the  particular  act,  but  to  the  general 
effects  of  a  course  of  conduct  involving  this  act,  when  uni- 
versally permitted.  Dr.  Wayland's  argument  under  this 
bead  may  be  considered  as  a  very  favorable  specimen  of 
his  manner. 

Arguing  from  facts,  from  the  acknowledged  profligacy, 
that  has  existed  am.ong  societies  of  men,  who  were  guided 
only  by  the  system  of  natural  religion,  Dr.  Wayland  en- 
deavors to  prove  the  insufficiency  of  this  system,  and  refers 
us  to  revelation,  as  the  only  remaining  source  of  moral 
light.  Of  the  chapter  respecting  the  mode  in  which  we  are 
to  ascertain  our  duty  from  the  Scriptures,  it  is  sufficient  to 
observe,  that,  excellent  in  itself,  it  would  be  more  in  place 
in  a  work  on  Christian  Theology,  than  in  a  book  professing 
to  treat  only  of  Moral  Science. 

Rather  the  larger  portion  of  the  work  is  devoted  to  the 
subject  of  Practical  Ethics.  The  general  division  of  du- 
ties is  founded  on  the  passage  of  Scripture,  which  reduces 
all  human  obligations  to  love  to  God  and  man.  In  the 
subdivisions,  something  is  sacrificed  to  the  love  of  sys- 
tem and  originality,  by  introducing  a  new  terminology  ;  as 
where  the  author  treats  of  veracity,  distinguished  into  that 
of  the  present,  the  past,  and  the  future  ;  comprehending 
under  the  latter  head  the  doctrine  of  promises.  It  is  no 
derogation  from  the  merits  of  Dr.  Wayland's  book  to  say, 
that,  in  this  portion  of  it,  he  has  been  largely  indebted  to 
Paley,  an  author  whose  excellent  practical  sense  and  clear 
reasoning,  where  he  treats  of  casuistry  applied  to  the  com- 
mon matters  of  life,  have  caused  nearly  all  departures  from 
his  method  to  be  considered  as  failures. 

We  have  given  but  a  brief  analysis  of  the  work,  yet  suf- 
ficient perhaps  to  present  the  general  features  of  the  sys- 
tem, and  to  serve  as  the  foundation  for  some  remarks  on  its 
merits.     We   object,  in  the   first  place,  to  the  will  of  the 


320  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

Deity  being  assumed  in  a  treatise  of  this  nature,  as  the 
source  of  all  moral  obligation.  Moral  science,  no  less  than 
natural  philosophy  and  history,  is  concerned  with  actual 
facts,  —  with  the  explanation  of  existent  phenomena.  Words 
corresponding  to  duty^  ohligation^  ^%^^^  and  wrongs  exist  in 
every  language.  In  every  age  and  nation,  crimes  have 
been  visited  with  punishments  irrespective  in  degree  of  the 
relative  amount  of  evil  resulting  to  the  community  from  the 
commission  of  the  acts.  The  parricide  is  everywhere  re- 
garded with  greater  horror  and  detestation,  than  the  simple 
murderer  ;  though  if  we  look  only  to  the  general  welfare, 
it  matters  not,  whether  a  man  be  slain  by  a  stranger  or  by 
his  own  son.  The  loss  of  life,  the  loss  to  the  community  is 
equally  great,  and  the  necessity  of  guarding  against  the 
repetition  of  the  act  is  equally  cogent.  What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  the  class  of  words  alluded  to  ?  Under  what  circum- 
stances are  they  applied  ?  What  is  the  nature  of  the  senti- 
ments, under  the  influence  of  which  they  are  used  ?  Why 
have  punishments  been  made  to  vary  on  any  other  stan- 
dard, than  that  of  the  various  degrees  of  harm  done  to 
society  ? 

So  far  as  the  Ethical  philosopher  attempts  to  answer 
these  queries,  he  is  not  concerned  with  the  question,  what 
ought  to  be,  which  has  been  thought  to  cover  the  whole 
ground  of  Ethics,  but  with  the  question,  what  is.  The  in- 
quiry respecting  the  will  of  the  Deity,  then,  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  theoretical  part  of  Moral  Science,  any  more 
than  the  speculation  concerning  final  causes  has  to  do  with 
Natural  Philosophy.  It  is  a  different  question,  subsidiary 
perhaps  to  the  main  subject,  but  forming  no  integral  part  of 
that  subject.  What  would  be  thought  of  the  astronomer, 
who,  when  questioned  concerning  the  cause  of  the  moon's 
revolving  round  the  earth,  should  answer,  that  the  immedi- 
ate agency  of  the  Deity  sustained  it  in   its  monthly  path  ? 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  321 

Equally  irrelevant  would  be  the  reply  of  the  moralist,  when 
asked  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  obligation  under  which 
Regulus  acted,  who  should  allege  only  the  conformity  of 
this  act  to  the  Divine  will. 

Again,  a  proper  system  of  Ethics  is  universal  in  its  ap- 
plication. It  respects  men  simply  as  men,  and  not  merely 
as  Christians.  It  is  designed  for  Jew  and  Gentile,  Christian 
and  Pagan,  bond  and  free.  The  relation  in  which  we 
stand  to  the  Deity  does  indeed,  as  is  stated  by  our  author, 
transcend  in  importance  all  other  relations.  But  it  is  para- 
mount to  the  extent  of  setting  aside  the  obligations  arising 
from  such  other  relations,  only  when  the  two  classes  of 
duties  clash.  Perhaps  it  will  be  difficult  to  prove,  that  a 
direct  collision  ever  can  occur  between  them.  Reverence 
to  the  Deity  comes  in  aid  of  conscience,  and  not  to  super- 
sede its  authority. 

Could  the  will  of  God  be  made  known  to  us  by  immedi- 
ate inspiration,  were  it  proclaimed  by  a  voice  from  heaven, 
so  as  to  admit  of  no  doubt  concerning  its  origin,  no  ques- 
tion respecting  its  meaning,  then,  indeed,  the  dictates  of 
conscience  would  be  no  longer  binding,  and  the  creature 
would  respect  and  obey  the  Creator  alone.  The  father  must 
be  prepared  to  bind  his  son  upon  the  pile,  and  "  to  be  faith- 
ful even  unto  slaying,"  unless  released  from  the  dreadful 
(Juty  by  the  same  authority,  which  imposed  the  sacrifice. 
But  we  live  under  a  different  dispensation.  We  ascertain 
his  will  by  inference,  by  diligent  use  of  those  faculties  with 
which  he  has  endowed  us.  Reason,  judgment,  the  moral 
faculty  itself,  are  employed,  not  merely  in  executing  His 
commands,  but  in  ascertaining  what  those  commands  are. 
These  powers  are  the  interpreters  between  God  and  man. 
Thus,  in  the  perusal  of  Scripture,  the  only  reason  for  con- 
struing a  passage  in  a  metaphorical  sense  is,  often,  that  by 
a  literal  interpretation,  it  would  convey  a  doctrine  utterly 


322  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

repugnant  to  all  our  moral  feelings.  The  law  written  on 
the  heart  expounds  the  law  graven  on  tables  of  stone,  and 
therefore  cannot  practically  be  subject  to  it,  although  theo- 
retically of  inferior  obligation.  As  the  interpreter,  to  us  it 
is  the  ultimate  approver  of  moral  law. 

We  would  not  be  misunderstood.  It  is  not  denied,  that 
the  obligations  incumbent  upon  man  are  increased  by  a 
knowledge  of  revealed  truth  ;  that,  as  moral  rules  are  thus 
enforced  by  a  higher  sanction,  the  breach  of  them  must  be 
visited  by  a  higher  punishm.ent.  But  to  enforce  these  con- 
siderations is  the  province  of  the  theologian,  and  not  of  the 
moralist.  They  belong  to  the  pulpit,  as  a  part  of  religious 
truth,  and  not  to  the  professor's  chair,  as  matters  of  science. 
Were  it  otherwise,  to  the  Christian  there  would  be  no  such 
science  as  Ethics.  Morality  would  be  merged  in  religion, 
and  an  important  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity, 
grounded  on  the  conformity  of  its  moral  precepts  to  the  dic- 
tates of  natural  law,  would  be  entirely  lost. 

These  reasons  appear  to  us  conclusive  against  a  direct 
reference,  in  a  system  of  Moral  Philosophy,  to  the  revealed 
will  of  the  Deity.  Yet  the  opposite  doctrine  is  stated  by 
Dr.  Wayland  in  the  broadest  and  most  offensive  terms. 

"  Thus  the  obligation  to  act  religiously ,  ox  piously,  extends  to 
the  minutest  action  of  our  lives,  and  no  action  of  any  sort  what- 
ever can  be,  in  the  full  acceptation  of  the  term,  virtuous,  that  is,  be 
entitled  to  the  praise  of  God,  which  does  not  involve  in  its  motives 
the  temper  of  filial  obedience  to  the  Deity.  And  still  more,  as  this 
obligation  is  infinitely  superior  to  any  other  that  can  be  conceived, 
an  action  performed  from  the  conviction  of  any  other  obligation,  if 
this  obligation  be  excluded,  fails,  in  infinitely  the  most  important 
respect;  and  must,  by  the  whole  amount  of  this  deficiency,  expose 
us  to  the  condemnation  of  the  law  of  God,  whatever  that  condem- 
nation may  be."  —p.  156. 

This  is  a  remarkable  paragraph.  We  cannot  believe, 
that  the  author  penned  it  with  that  degree  of  consideration, 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  323 

which  appears  to  have  been  bestowed  on  every  other  por- 
tion of  the  work.  Experience  has  proved,  what  reason  in- 
deed might  have  discovered,  that  a  literal  interpretation  of 
the  command  to  "  do  all  things  to  the  glory  of  God,"  can 
lead  only  to  the  wildest  excesses  of  fanaticism.  It  is  a  mark 
of  the  highest  attainments  in  virtue,  to  have  cultivated  such 
dispositions  of  mind,  as  lead  to  the  immediate  —  almost  the 
involuntary — performance  of  benevolent  acts.  Delibera- 
tion upon  the  course  of  conduct,  which  duty  requires,  is 
often  inconsistent  with  the  noble  quickness  of  purpose, 
which  belongs  to  a  truly  generous  character.  It  is  idle  to 
object,  that  because  his  actions  are  habitual,  they  are  auto- 
matic, and  as  such  not  meritorious.  The  formation  of  an  evil 
habit  is  no  excuse  for  the  practice  of  vice.  Why  should  a 
good  habit  rob  a  virtuous  deed  of  its  praiseworthy  charac- 
ter ?  A  sailor  plunges  from  the  deck  of  a  vessel,  at  the 
imminent  hazard  of  his  life,  to  rescue  a  fellow-being  from 
the  waves.  He  does  it  from  the  mere  instinct  of  humanity, 
without  a  thought  on  the  common  relation  of  the  sufferer 
and  himself  to  the  Deity,  or  on  the  necessity  of  rendering 
obedience  to  the  Divine  commands.  Yet  to  deny  to  such 
an  act  the  character  of  virtue  is  to  contradict  the  general 
verdict  of  mankind. 

We  admit,  that  a  wilful  violation  of  the  known  will  of 
ihe  Deity  for  the  sake  of  performing  any  other  duty,  how- 
ever imperative,  —  an  attempt,  for  instance,  to  save  a  par- 
ent from  starvation  by  turning  robber  on  the  highway,  — 
is  sinful,  and  deserving  of  the  highest  punishment.  But  the 
principle  of  Dr.  Wayland  goes  much  farther.  We  are  ex- 
posed to  the  dreadful  consequences  of  the  law,  if  this  obli- 
gation to  render  obedience  to  the  Deity  "  le  excluded  " ; 
that  is,  if  it  be  left  aside  —  not  taken  into  view  ;  not,  if  it  be 
known,  and  yet  intentionally  disregarded.  We  can  hardly 
believe,  that    a  person  of  naturally  kind  and  benevolent 


324  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

feelings  can  entertain  so  monstrous  a  proposition.  It  is  the 
nature  of  these  feelings  to  require  immediate  gratification. 
They  lie,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  in  direct 
contact  with  the  will,  and  an  action  which  is  prompted 
by  them  is  performed  wholly  under  their  influence,  without 
reference  to  any  ulterior  rule  or  motive.  Is  it  a  crime  to 
yield  to  such  impulses  ?  Is  it  sinful  to  cultivate  such  feelings  ? 
The  weakness  of  human  nature  is  such,  that  it  requires  to 
be  goaded  into  action  by  more  sharp  and  powerful  motives, 
than  are  afforded  by  the  cool  and  deliberate  deductions  of 
the  understanding.  Passion  and  appetite  must  concur  with 
reason  and  the  general  desire  of  happiness.  Man  is  partly 
an  instinctive  being.  Were  it  not  for  the  pains  of  hunger 
and  thirst,  though  reason  might  teach  the  necessity  of  taking 
nourishment,  lest  the  body  should  gradually  waste  away, 
yet  the  act  of  supporting  the  physical  system  would  be  too 
often  postponed  or  entirely  neglected.  The  same  is  the 
case  with  our  moral  nature.  Conscience  and  the  social  and 
benevolent  affections  act  directly  on  the  will.  The  mother 
cherishes  her  offspring,  not  from  any  consideration  of  duty 
either  to  society  or  the  Supreme  Being,  but  from  the  instinct 
of  maternal  love.  Pity  prompts  to  relief,  magnanimity  to 
self-sacrifice  ;  .  the  feeling  of  justice  shrinks  instinctively 
from  any  violation  of  another's  right.  It  is  dangerous  to 
suppress  such  feelings,  and  to  introduce  motives,  of  higher 
authority  perhaps,  but  less  urgent,  sure,  and  immediate  in 
their  operation.  Obedience  to  the  Deity  is  shown  in  the 
cultivation  and  control  of  proper  affections,  and  not  in  su- 
perseding them  as  motives  to  action.  The  bigot  thinks  he 
does  God  service,  when  he  severs  the  bonds  of  natural  af- 
fection, and  binds  his  own  brother  to  the  stake.  The  fanatic 
casts  away  all  human  ties,  and,  impressed  with  the  belief, 
that  he  is  selected  for  a  peculiar  mission,  to  enlighten  the 
human  race  and  glorify  the  Deity  on  earth,  acts  consistently 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  325 

with  this  notion,  and  violates  without  compunction  every 
law  of  God  and  man. 

Dr.  Wayland's  whole  system  of  Theoretical  and  Practical 
Ethics  is  founded  on  Scripture,  and  must  be  regarded  as  the 
ingenious  attempt  of  a  mind  deeply  imbued  with  religious 
feeling,  to  show  the  sufficiency  of  the  Bible,  not  only  for 
the  regulation  of  human  life  and  character,  but  for  the 
guidance  of  at  least  one  branch  of  scientific  research.  We 
will  not  say,  that  the  book  is  written  in  the  very  spirit, 
which  has  prompted  some  ill-judging  divines  to  discredit 
and  defame  the  most  eminent  geologists  of  the  day,  on  ac- 
count of  a  real  or  fancied  discrepancy  between  the  results 
of  their  discoveries  and  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation. 
But  we  could  wish,  that  the  work  was  not  open  to  censure 
of  another  kind ;  that  its  author  had  not  shown  the  danger 
of  confounding  peculiar  theological  opinions  with  the  great 
principles  ol  religious  truth  ;  that  he  had  not  attempted  to 
maintain  the  doctrines  of  a  sect,  when  he  fancied,  that  he 
was  only  writing  on  matters  of  science,  and  defending 
Christianity.  That  a  Calvinistic  writer  on  Ethics  should 
endeavor,  when  treating  of  human  nature,  to  lay  a  founda- 
tion for  the  doctrines  of  original  sin,  total  depravity,  and 
the  atonement,  is  not  at  all  wonderful.  But  we  were  un- 
prepared for  an  attempt  of  this  kind  from  a  writer  of  so 
jnuch  candor  and  good  sense,  as  are  usually  displayed  by 
Dr.  Wayland.  How  far  he  has  made  the  trial,  and  with 
what  success,  may  be  ascertained  from  a  perusal  of  the  two 
sections  already  alluded  to,  on  "  virtue  in  general,"  and  on 
"  virtue  in  imperfect  beings."  A  few  extracts  will  show 
what  positions  the  author  labors  to  establish. 

"  And  as,  on  the  one  hand,  we  can  have  no  conception  of  the- 
amount  of  attainment,  both  in  virtue  and  vice,  of  which  man  is  ca- 
pable, so,  on  the  other  hand,  we  can  have  no  conception  of  the 
delicacy  of  that  moral  tinge  by  which  his  character  is  first  desig- 
28 


326  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

nated.  We  detect  moral  character  at  a  very  early  age  ;  but  this  by 
no  means  proves,  that  it  did  not  exist  long  before  we  detected  it. 
Hence,  as  it  may  thus  have  existed  before  we  were  able  to  detect 
it,  it  is  manifest  that  we  have  no  elements  by  which  to  determine 
the  time  of  its  commencement.  That  is  to  say,  in  general,  we  are 
capable  of  observing  moral  qualities  within  certain  limiis,  as  from 
childhood  to  old  age ;  but  this  is  no  manner  of  indication  that  these 
qualities  may  not  exist  in  the  being  before,  and  afterwards,  in  de- 
grees greatly  below  and  infinitely  above  any  thing  which  we  are 
capable  of  observing."  — p.  85. 

"Man  is  created  with  moral  and  intellectual  powers,  capable 
of  progressive  improvement.  Hence,  if  he  use  his  faculties  as 
he  ought,  he  will  progressively  improve  ;  that  is,  become  more 
and  more  capable  of  virtue.  He  is  assured  of  enjoying  all  the 
benefits  which  can  result  from  such  improvement.  If  he  use  these 
faculties  as  he  ought  not,  and  become  less  and  less  capable  of  vir- 
tue, he  is  hence  held  responsible  for  all  the  consequences  of  his 
misimprovement. 

"  Now,  as  this  misimprovement  is  his  own  act,  for  which  he  is 
responsible,  it  manifestly  does  not  aifect  the  relations  under  which 
he  is  created,  nor  the  obligations  resulting  from  these  relations; 
that  is,  he  stands,  in  respect  to  the  moral  acquirements  under 
which  he  is  created,  precisely  in  the  same  condition  as  if  he  had 
always  used  his  moral  powers  correctly.  That  is  to  say,  under 
the  present  moral  constitution,  every  man  is  justly  held  responsi- 
ble, at  every  period  of  his  existence,  for  that  degree  of  virtue  of 
which  he  would  have  been  capable,  had  he,  from  the  first  moment 
of  his  existence,  improved  his  moral  nature,  in  every  respect,  just 
as  he  ought  to  have  done.  In  other  words,  suppose  some  human 
being  to  have  always  lived  thus  (Jesus  Christ,  for  instance),  every 
man  is,  at  every  successive  period  of  his  existence,  held  responsi- 
ble for  the  same  degree  of  virtue  as  such  a  perfect  being  attained 
to,  at  the  corresponding  periods  of  his  existence.  Such  I  think 
evidently  to  be  the  nature  of  the  obligation  which  must  rest  upon 
such  beings,  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  their  duration. 

"  In  order  to  meet  this  increasing  responsibility,  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  fulfil  the  requirements  of  moral  law,  a  being,  under  such 
a  constitution,  must,  at  every  moment  of  his  existence,  possess  a 


ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  327 

moral  faculty,  which,  by  perfect  previous  cultivation,  is  adapted 
to  the  responsibilities  of  that  particular  moment.  But,  suppose 
this  not  to  have  been  the  case  ;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  his 
moral  faculty,  by  once  doing  wrong,  has  become  impaired,  so  that, 
it  either  does  not  admonish  him  correctly  of  his  obligations,  or 
that  he  has  become  indisposed  to  obey  its  monitions.  This  must, 
at  the  next  moment,  terminate  in  action  more  at  variance  with 
rectitude  than  before.  The  adjustment  between  conscience  and 
the  passions  must  become  deranged  ;  and  thus,  the  tendency,  at 
every  successive  moment,  must  be,  to  involve  him  deeper  and 
deeper  in  guilt.  And,  unless  some  other  moral  force  be  exerted 
in  the  case,  such  must  be  the  tendency  for  ever. 

"  And  suppose  some  such  force  to  be  exerted,  and,  at  any 
period  of  his  existence,  the  being  to  begin  to  obey  his  conscience 
in  every  one  of  its  present  monitions.  It  is  manifest,  that  he 
would  now  need  some  other  and  more  perfect  guide,  in  order  to 
inform  him  perfectly  of  his  obligations,  and  of  the  mode  in  which 
they  are  to  be  fulfilled.  And  supposing  this  to  be  done  :  as  he 
is  at  this  moment  responsible  for  such  a  capacity  of  virtue,  as 
would  have  been  attained  by  a  previously  perfect  rectitude;  and 
as  his  capacity  is  inferior  to  this  ;  and  as  no  reason  can  be  sug- 
gested, why  his  progress  in  virtue  should,  under  these  circum- 
stances, be  more  rapid  than  that  of  a  perfect  being,  but  the  con- 
trary ;  it  is  manifest,  that  he  must  ever  fall  short  of  what  is  justly 
required  of  him,  — nay,  that  he  must  be  continually  falling  farther 
and  farther  behind  it."  —  pp.  90 -  92. 

"  The  law  of  God,  as  revealed  in  the  Scriptures,  represents 
^  our  eternal  happiness  as  attainable  upon  the  simple  ground  of 
perfect  obedience,  and  perfect  obedience  upon  the  principles  al- 
ready explained.  But  this,  in  our  present  state,  is  manifestly 
unattainable.  A  single  sin,  both  on  the  ground  of  its  violation 
of  the  conditions  on  which  our  future  happiness  was  suspended, 
as  well  as  by  the  effects  which  it  produces  upon  our  whole  sub- 
sequent moral  character,  and  our  capacity  for  virtue,  renders  our 
loss  of  happiness  inevitable.  Even  after  reformation,  our  moral 
attainment  must  fall  short  of  the  requirements  of  the  law  of  God, 
and  thus  present  no  claim  to  the  Divine  favor.     For  this  reason, 


828  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

our  salvation  is  made  to  depend  upon  the  obedience  and  merits 
ofanotlier."  —pp.  146,  147. 

We  have  no  wish  to  comment  upon  the  matter  of  the 
foregoing  extracts.  The  doctrines  defended  have  hitherto 
been  regarded  either  as  so  cotitrary  to  reason,  or  ahove 
reason,  that  they  rested  solely  upon  Scriptural  authority, 
and  were  to  be  received  as  special  matters  of  revelation, 
upon  the  instrumentality  of  faith  alone,  with  a  reverential 
submission  of  human  judgment  to  the  wisdom  and  power 
of  God.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  Scriptural  argu- 
ment in  their  favor,  they  are  so  entirely  repugnant  to  our 
natural  feeling  of  justice,  that  when  a  person  attempts  to 
maintain  them  on  the  grounds  of  consciousness,  by  doing 
away  with  this  repugnancy,  we  cannot  argue  with  him. 
He  is  a  different  being  from  us.  That  such  an  attempt 
has  been  made,  only  shows  what  loose  habits  of  reasoning 
are  induced  by  the  endeavor  to  support  these  doctrines 
even  on  Biblical  grounds  ;  and  evinces  still  more  strongly 
the  necessity  of  keeping  the  department  of  Ethics  distinct 
from  that  of  Dogmatic  Theology. 

The  argument  of  the  second  extract,  however,  from  its 
great  ingenuity,  may  appear  to  deserve  a  more  close  ex- 
amination. The  fallacy  in  it  has  arisen  from  the  precon- 
ceived opinions  of  the  writer  on  religious  subjects,  which 
have  induced  him,  in  a  treatise  purely  Ethical,  to  attribute 
guilt  to  vice,  but  no  merit  to  virtue.  It  is  a  poor  rule, 
which  will  not  work  both  ways.  If  from  the  general  power 
of  habit,  the  commission  of  a  single  fault  blunts  the  dis- 
criminative power  of  conscience,  lessens  its  impulsive  force, 
and  leads  to  other  vicious  acts,  so  that  the  individual  can 
never  be  released  from  its  future  injurious  operation, — 
then  we  urge,  e  contra,  that  one  virtuous  action,  a  deed  of 
charity  for  instance,  is  not  only  meritorious  in  itself,  but 


ELEBIENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE.  329 

from  its  tendency  to  strengthen  the  benevolent  impulses  of 
our  nature,  creates  a  fund  of  good  desert,  equally  perma- 
nent in  its  working  to  the  benefit  of  the  agent.  It  is  surely 
possible,  that  a  result  of  the  latter  kind  should  balance  one 
of  the  former.  Dreadful  and  debasing  as  are  the  tenden- 
cies of  sin,  there  is  an  effective,  healing  power  in  virtue. 
This  is  heresy.  Dr.  Wayland  will  say.  He  had  better  call 
it  sophistry,  for  then  only  could  we  join  issue  with  him.  It 
is  not  asserted,  that  a  dependent  being  can  claim  merit 
with  the  Creator  for  any  action  whatever ;  but  only  that  he 
deserves  and  receives  the  approbation  of  conscience^  when 
he  has  complied  with  the  dictates  of  this  faculty.  But 
after  all,  from  the  admitted  position,  that  evil  habits  dete- 
riorate the  moral  powers,  to  infer  the  irretrievable  effects 
of  a  single  error  or  crime  on  the  individual's  whole  future 
capacity  for  amendment,  is  to  draw  the  argument  alto- 
gether too  fine,  and  to  apply  a  mode  of  reasoning,  which, 
however  proper  in  mathematics,  is  ludicrously  out  of  place 
in  morals. 

The  doctrine  is  too  harsh  and  repulsive  in  its  first  aspect. 
Men  can  never  be  persuaded  to  repent,  unless  previously 
assured  of  the  efficacy  of  repentance.  To  deny  them  this 
assurance  is  to  blot  the  moral  sun  from  the  heavens,  and  to 
leave  all  mankind  to  the  agony  of  unavailing  regret.  In- 
jdividuals  have  been  driven  to  madness  from  the  fear  of 
having  committed  the  unpardonable  sin.  Dr.  Wayland 
would  make  all  sins  unpardonable,  for  the  sake  of  proving, 
that  we  can  be  saved  only  by  the  merits  of  another  ;  and 
he  would  teach  this  doctrine  too,  not  as  an  incomprehen- 
sible revelation  from  the  Deity,  but  as  the  obvious  dictate 
of  natural  reason.  We  believe  neither  in  such  a  state, 
nor  in  such  a  remedy.  Firmly  persuaded  of  the  evils 
of  transgression,  we  are  yet  to  learn,  that  it  leaves  man 
28* 


330  ELEMENTS    OF    MORAL    SCIENCE. 

in  a  condition  entirely  hopeless,  except  from  the  expia- 
tion of  his  guilt  by  the  sufferings  of  a  different  and  an  inno- 
cent being.  We  believe,  that  in  his  punishment  are  con- 
tained the  elements,  if  he  will  use  them,  of  his  restoration ; 
that  remorse  pursues  sin,  but  repentance  overtakes  and 
vanquishes  it. 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  331 


IX, 


POLITICAL   ETHICS.* 

A  PUBLICATION  on  the  subject  indicated  by  this  title  is 
now  happily  timed.  Important  questions  on  the  fundamen- 
tal points  in  morals  and  politics  are  frequently  discussed  at 
the  present  day  in  our  community,  with  a  warmth  and  ear- 
nestness, which  show  rather  the  deep  interest  the  disputants 
feel  in  the  argument,  than  their  competency  to  decide  the 
mooted  problems  aright.  The  contest  is  not  only  of  oppo- 
site theories  ;  the  results  are  not  merely  speculative.  Con- 
clusions are  carried  into  practice  with  ominous  precipitancy, 
and  sometimes  it  is  well,  if  the  decision  do  not  wholly  take 
precedence  of  the  argument,  and  the  debate  be  instituted 
only  to  afford  a  coloring  to  preconceived  opinions.  What 
are  the  bounds  of  the  rights  of  individuals  ?  How  far  are 
they  limited  and  controlled  by  the  establishment  of  society  ? 
What  creates  the  duty  of  allegiance  to  human  government, 
and  when  does  this  duty  cease  ?  How  far  are  legal  enact- 
ments binding,  and  when  does  resistance  to  constituted  au- 
thority become  a  virtue  ?  What  positive  duties  are  created 
by  the  mere  fact  of  an  individual's  birth  on  one  or  the  other 
side  of  a  rivulet  or  chain  of  mountains,  under  this  or  that 
government .'' 

*From  the  Christian  Examiner  for  March,  1839. 

Manual  of  Political  Ethics,  designed  chiefly  for  the  use  of  Colleges 
and  Students  at  Law.  Part  I.  Book  I.  Ethics,  General  and  Political. 
Book  II.    The  State.     By  Francis  Lieber.     Boston.    1838. 


332  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

These  are  grave  questions,  and  it  is  somewhat  late  in  the 
day  to  discuss  them  now,  with  any  particular  reference  to 
conduct.  One  would  suppose,  that  they  were  answered 
long  since,  practically  at  least ;  for  the  daily  actions  of 
every  citizen  presuppose  a  tacit  determination  of  them  in 
his  own  mind.  But  the  times  are  changed,  and  we  are 
changed  with  them.  Novel  positions  of  society  beget  new 
relations  between  individuals,  and  from  these  spring  new 
rights  and  their  corresponding  obligations.  New  systems 
of  morals  and  politics  must  be  contrived,  it  seems,  for  each 
new  phasis  of  government  and  civilization.  We  have  done 
with  discussing  the  divine  right  of  kings,  and,  like  good  re- 
publicans, have  now  for  a  long  time  been  determining  the 
divine  rights  of  the  people.  Nay,  from  recent  events,  it 
would  appear  that  we  have  passed  this  point  also,  and  are 
now  to  consider  the  rights  of  the  individual,  as  opposed  to 
the  claims  of  kings,  governments,  majorities,  and  all  con- 
stituted authorities  whatsoever.  The  great  problem  to  be 
solved  at  present  is,  how  to  preserve  the  blessings  of  civil 
institutions  with  the  smallest  possible  infringement  of  each 
man's  natural  right;  —  how  to  keep  up  society,  and  yet  im. 
pose  no  restraint  on  the  free  action  of  any  of  its  members. 
The  spirit  of  the  present  age  is  strongly  marked  by  an  im- 
patience of  all  authority,  however  long  seated  and  tamely 
acknowledged  by  former  generations.  As  the  subject- 
matter  of  all  discussions  in  political  ethics  is  thus  changed, 
the  old  systems  have  become  obsolete,  and  if  any  of  the 
conclusions  embraced  in  them  are  to  be  retained,  they  must 
be  supported  on  wholly  different  grounds,  and  thus  be  as- 
similated to  the  other  provisions  of  a  renovated  code. 

The  republican  tendencies  of  the  age  have  already  been 
displayed  in  action  ;  they  have  dethroned  kings,  emanci- 
pated colonies,  and  proclaimed  deliverance  to  the  captive 
and  the  slave.     They  are   now  to  be  seen  in  speculation. 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  333 

Theory  is  to  be  carried  forward  to  the  same  point  with 
practice,  and  perhaps  advanced  beyond  it,  since  thought  is 
naturally  more  free  than  action.  Political  science  has  thus 
gained  a  new  point  of  departure,  and  must  rest  in  future, 
not  on  the  principles  of  absolutism  and  prescription,  but  on 
the  philosophy  of  democracy,  or  the  inalienable  rights  of 
individual  men.  The  necessity  of  giving  this  turn  to  spec- 
ulation proceeds  from  the  impulse  belonging  to  human  na- 
ture, which  impels  one  to  seek  in  every  institution  for  the 
idea  of  legitimacy,  —  to  found  every  claim  and  action  on 
some  principle  of  natural  right.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  enjoy 
a  privilege  ;  we  must  prove  the  rightfulness  of  the  enjoy- 
ment, —  the  legitimacy  of  the  privilege.  From  this  cause, 
the  movement,  which  has  released  us  from  the  old  political 
systems,  now  tends  to  the  establishment  of  an  excessive  and 
licentious  freedom.  To  justify  the  revolt  against  ancient 
institutions,  principles  have  been  advanced  and  a  mode  of 
argument  adopted,  which,  as  they  are  carried  out  by  many 
reasoners,  lead  to  conclusions  remote  and  extravagant  be- 
yond all  conception.  ''The  right  of  the  people ''^  is  a  con- 
venient abstraction  ;  yet,  in  the  apprehension  of  many,  it 
means  nothing,  if  it  be  not  founded  on  the  right  of  the  in- 
dividual. But,  if  each  member  arrogated  to  himself  all  the 
power,  that  is  exercised  by  society  in  the  aggregate,  total 
anarchy  would  ensue.  The  theory,  that  government  is 
founded  on  popular  consent,  in  the  literal  meaning  of  the 
phrase,  is  a  mere  fiction.  The  consent  of  more  than  half 
of  the  community  is  never  asked  under  any  circumstances, 
and  under  the  most  liberal  form  that  ever  existed,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  prove,  that,  at  any  period  subsequent  to  its 
first  establishment,  it  is  in  the  power  of  any  person  to  with- 
hold his  approval,  if  he  sees  fit.  Besides,  he  cannot  give 
more  than  he  possesses ;  and  if  the  founders  of  the  State 
could,  by  their  personal  authority,  bestow  upon  it  such  ex- 


334  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

tensive  rights  over  themselves,  then  their  successors,  having 
equal  endowments  from  nature,  but  disposed  to  make  a  dif- 
ferent use  of  them,  may  withhold  the  gift  from  the  govern- 
ment and  exercise  it  in  their  own  persons.  This  is  a  strange 
conclusion,  but  we  cannot  perceive  that  the  argument  of 
many  ultra  defenders  of  individual  rights  leads  to  any  other 
result. 

The  state,  as  it  appears  to  us  in  an  organized  form,  is  an 
artificial  thing,  —  an  arbitrary  creation  ;  yet  it  claims  and 
exercises  the  highest  prerogatives.  It  regulates  the  descent 
and  distribution  of  property,  and,  under  the  name  of  taxa- 
tion, even  appropriates  a  portion  of  the  subjects'  wealth  to 
itself.  It  is  the  arbiter  of  life  as  well  as  fortune,  exposing 
those  who  live  under  its  dominion  to  the  chances  of  war, 
and  inflicting  death  as  a  punishment  for  whatever  crimes  it 
chooses  thus  to  distinguish.  It  even  dictates  to  the  con- 
sciences of  those  under  its  control,  assuming  the  power  to 
change  the  moral  character  of  acts,  and  to  make  criminal 
certain  proceedings,  which,  in  a  purely  ethical  point  of 
view,  are  indifferent.  Thus,  smuggling  is  made  an  offence 
in  morals,  unless  we  adopt  the  strange  conclusion,  that  a 
man  has  a  moral  right  to  disobey  the  law  of  the  land,  if 
willing  to  suffer  the  legal  penalty  when  detected.  These 
are  all  grave  prerogatives,  and  the  inquiry  into  their  origin 
is  at  once  curious  and  difficult.  Every  theory,  which 
founds  the  power  of  government  on  a  compact,  either  ex- 
press or  implied,  or  in  any  way  recognises  the  consent  of 
the  governed  as  the  sole  basis  of  civil  authority,  necessarily 
implies,  that  the  subject  originally  possessed  these  rights  in 
his  own  person,  and,  unless  he  voluntarily  renounces  his 
birthright,  he  is  independent  of  the  law,  and  may  rightfully 
refuse  obedience. 

We  need,  therefore,  a  more  solid  foundation  for  the  au- 
thority of  the  state,  than  a  mere  bargain  between  it  and  its 


POLITICAL   ETHICS.  335 

subjects.  If  civil  subordination  means  any  thing  more  than 
apathetic  submission  to  force,  or  blind  reverence  for  ancient 
custom,  it  must  be  shown,  that  government  rests  on  the 
eternal  laws  of  justice  and  natural  right,  and  that  its  legal 
enactments  are  binding  on  the  consciences  of  those  to  whom 
they  are  addressed.  Allegiance  is  the  moral  duly  of  the 
subject,  and  treason  is  a  crime  of  far  deeper  dye  than  the 
mere  breach  of  a  promise,  or  violation  of  a  tacit  compact. 
The  duty  is  reciprocal,  it  is  true  ;  the  sacred  character  does 
not  attach  to  the  government,  unless  the  well-being  of  the 
subject  is  promoted  by  its  management,  or,  perhaps,  his 
wishes  consulted,  in  some  degree,  in  its  formation.  But, 
when  these  conditions  are  fulfilled,  a  more  grave  authority, 
—  a  far  higher  sanction,  belongs  to  the  legal  proceedings  of 
the  state,  than  could  be  derived  from  the  mere  consent  of 
the  governed.  Hooker  merely  stated  an  undeniable  truth 
in  a  rhetorical  and  exaggerated  form,  when  he  affirmed  of 
positive  law,  that  "  its  seat  is  the  bosom  of  God,  and  its 
voice  is  the  harmony  of  the  world."  This  reverence  for 
law  is  spontaneous  and  natural  to  every  man,  when  unhap- 
py circumstances  have  not  compelled  him  frequently  to  op- 
pose abused  authority  and  mischievous  and  oppressive  en- 
actments. It  is  the  safeguard  of  society,  the  preservative 
from  continual  dissension  and  tumult,  the  fly-wheel,  that 
^eeps  up  continuous  action  in  the  social  machine,  and  pro- 
tects it  against  sudden  and  injurious  alterations.  The  pre- 
sumption is  in  favor  of  every  existing  form  of  government, 
and  can  be  rebutted  only  by  positive  evidence  of  abuse, 
mismanagement,  or  oppression.  And  the  burden  of  proof 
lies  on  the  assailant.  He  must  substantiate  his  charges,  or 
he  is  justly  exposed  to  punishment  as  a  disturber  of  the 
public  peace.  We  are  not  stating  a  theory,  but  a  fact, 
though  it  is  one  which  is  too  frequently  winked  out  of  view 
in  general  speculations  on  politics.     The  uniform  practice 


336  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

of  all  governments,  in  relation  to  resistance  to  meir  autnor- 
ity,  is  as  above  stated.  The  statutes  of  republics  and  de- 
mocracies, as  well  as  of  despotisms,  define  the  crime  of 
treason,  and  annex  to  it  the  highest  of  all  punishments. 

In  these  times,  we  have  reversed  the  maxim  of  the  an- 
cients ;  opinions  now  incline  towards  the  conclusion,  that 
the  individual  is  every  thing,  and  the  public  nothing.  The 
disorganizing  effects  of  such  a  belief  need  to  be  resisted  by 
argument,  since  the  tendency  of  events  is  to  strengthen  and 
develope  the  principle.  Antiquity  fortifies  the  opinion  of 
right  in  the  state,  and,  as  the  frequent  changes  of  modern 
times  have  deprived  the  civil  power,  in  most  cases,  of  this 
support,  it  is  the  more  necessary  to  point  out  the  legitimacy 
of  its  authority,  or  the  moral  basis  on  which  it  rests.  We 
are  fast  disarming  the  -law  of  its  former  terrors,  —  physical 
force  and  the  reverence  due  to  age,  —  and  there  is  more 
cause,  therefore,  to  increase  its  moral  efficiency.  Without 
a  clear  perception  of  the  truth,  that  the  acts  of  the  state  are 
always  presumed  to  be  done  within  constitutional  limits, 
there  will  be  perpetual  collision  between  the  claims  of  gov- 
ernment and  of  the  individual.  If  the  subject  believes,  that 
there  is  no  obligation  in  the  case,  that  he  is  bound  to  obey 
no  longer  than  it  is  his  interest  to  do  so,  that  his  own  esti- 
mate of  the  expediency  of  a  law  determines  his  privilege  of 
resisting  it,  then  it  is  obvious  that  society  must  cease.  An, 
organized  state  differs  from  a  mere  aggregation  of  individu- 
als only  by  virtue  of  the  superior  authority  claimed  for  an 
act  of  the  former  over  a  decision  by  a  majority  of  the  lat- 
ter. An  act  of  the  state,  as  such,  by  its  own  proper  char- 
acter, is  binding  on  those  of  its  subjects  who  receive,  and 
those  who  reject  the  evidence  of  its  general  utility.  The 
privilege  of  the  discontented  is  confined  to  an  attempt  to 
change  the  law  through  the  established  mode  of  legislation  ; 
they  must  not  resist  it  during  the  period  of  its  legal  exist- 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  337 

ence.  But,  where  a  number  of  individuals  are  casually- 
united,  without  any  social  or  legal  tie  existing  between 
them,  no  decision  by  a  majority,  however  great,  can  put  any 
restraint,  but  that  of  physical  force,  on  a  single  dissentient. 
All  general  reasoning  on  this  subject,  founded  on  the  hy- 
pothesis of  birth  in  a  state  of  nature,  original  enjoyment  of 
entire  freedom,  and  subsequent  formation  of  society,  and 
voluntary  submission  to  legal  restraint,  is  fallacious  and  ir- 
relevant. Nowadays,  men  are  not  born  in  holes  and  cav- 
erns, apart  from  their  fellows,  to  the  enjoyment  of  natural, 
savage  right.  Man  is  eminently  a  social  being.  Society, 
more  or  less  matured,  watches  over  his  cradle,  claims  him 
as  her  property  in  infancy,  and  exercises  authority  over 
him  before  he  is  capable  of  acting  for  himself.  When  he 
attains  the  use  of  reflection  and  foresight,  the  question  is 
not,  whether  he  will  surrender  a  portion  of  the  privileges 
he  has  hitherto  enjoyed,  but  whether  he  will  shake  off  the 
authority  which  has  as  yet  restrained  him  ;  —  not  whether 
he  will  form  a  society,  but  whether  he  will  destroy  one. 
Therefore,  if  the  duty  of  civil  obedience  exists  at  all,  it  is 
not  self-imposed,  but  original ;  it  is  born  with  us,  resulting 
necessarily  from  the  condition  of  our  nature,  and  the  situa- 
tion in  which  we  are  placed  by  Providence.  The  true  state 
of  nature,  far  from  being  one  of  unlicensed  action  and  self- 
^  government,  is  a  condition  of  responsibility,  submission, 
and  trust. 

With  these  views,  we  may  the  more  easily  approach  a 
question,  the  decision  of  which  is  of  some  practical  impor- 
tance at  the  present  day.  Does  a  colony  owe  natural  alle- 
giance to  the  mother  country  ?  Can  it  justifiably  dissolve 
the  connexion,  when  unprovoked  by  unjust,  illegal,  or  op- 
pressive treatment  ?  According  to  the  principles  just  laid 
down,  colonists  have  no  such  privilege.  The  allegiance  of 
the  subject,  as  it  is  not  founded  on  his  own  act  or  consent, 
29 


338  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

but  on  the  constitution  of  his  nature  and  the  general  order 
of  things,  is  due  to  that  government  under  which  he  is  born. 
It  continues  until   he  is  released   by  a  voluntary  act  of  the 
state,  or  the   duty  is  cancelled  by  some  violation  of  his 
rights  on  the  part  of  the  government.     It  is  the  privilege  of 
every  society  to   use  all  justifiable  means   for  its  own  pres- 
ervation, and  among  the   most  important  of  these  means  is 
the  integrity  of  its  territory.     Hence,  the   dismemberment 
of  a  state  is  a  social   evil,  and   can  be  justified  only  by  the 
necessity  of  avoiding  some  greater  wrong,  or  of  vindicating 
some  natural  and  indefeasible  right.    Indeed,  so  far  as  such 
dismemberment  goes,  it  amounts  to  a  dissolution  of  society 
itself;  for  the  right  of  separation  from  the  main   body  may 
be  claimed  and   effected,  successively,  by  still  smaller  por- 
tions of  the  community,  until,  at  last,  all   union  is  dissolved, 
and  each  individual  assumes  the   privilege  of  self-govern- 
ment.    The  distance  of  a  colony  may  seem  to  create  a  dis- 
tinction between  its   case,  and  the   removal  of  an   integral 
portion  from  the  parent  state.     But  it  is  a  distinction  with- 
out a  difference,  when  we  regard  only  the  rights  of  the  two 
parties,  though  it  may  prove  decisive,  if  the  question  be  ar- 
gued on  the  simple  ground  of  expediency.     There  are  no 
natural  limits  to  the  territory  of  a  nation,  and  a  district  on 
a  remote  border  may  be  as  far  distant  from  the  metropolis, 
as  a  colony  is,  in  a  different  direction.     The  duty  of  a  sub- 
ject cannot  be  determined  by  the   greater  or  less  number  of 
miles,  which  separate   him  from  the  seat  of  government. 
The   inconvenience  of  extending  the  empire  of  one  state 
over  what  are  termed  natural  boundaries,  such  as  a  river,  a 
chain  of  mountains,   or  an  ocean,  may  be   manifest ;  but 
this  circumstance  cannot  affect  a  question  of  natural  right. 
In  our  country,  under   the   most   liberal  government  of 
modern  times,  this  practical  question  may  hardly  seem  to 
merit  an   abstract  discussion.      We   shall   probably   never 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  339 

again  be  driven  to  an  application  of  the  argument  in  our 
own  case.  Yet  it  is  important  to  have  precise  notions  on 
the  subject,  if  we  would  avoid  the  waste  of  much  honest 
sympathy  on  men  and  measures,  that  deserve  only  the 
heartiest  execration.  Liberty  is  too  sacred  a  name,  the 
glory  of  having  fought  and  died  in  her  cause  is  too  pre- 
cious, to  be  thrown  around  the  memories  of  piratical  and 
blood-stained  insurgents.  To  prevent  a  general  confusion 
of  ideas  and  uncertainty  of  judgment  on  this  subject,  and 
others  growing  out  of  it,  and  equal  in  importance,  we  need 
a  system  of  political  ethics  suited  to  the  advanced  notions 
of  the  age,  in  relation  to  civil  freedom  and  the  rights  of 
subjects,  —  a  system,  which  shall  reconcile  the  enlarged 
claims  of  individual  liberty  with  the  security  and  well-being 
of  society.  The  first  principle  of  such  a  theory  must  be, 
that  government,  considered  simply  as  a  government,  is  a 
good  ;  —  that  its  mere  existence  entitles  it  to  respect,  and 
gives  it  authority  ;  —  that  innovators,  recusants,  and  oppo- 
nents are  bound  to  make  out  their  case,  —  to  show  cause 
for  their  proceedings.  This  point  being  established,  we 
have  a  moral  basis  for  the  reasoning,  a  point  of  departure 
in  the  natural  obligations  of  the  subject.  The  conflicting 
claims  of  the  state  and  the  individual  may  then  be  settled 
by  a  comprehensive  view,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  blessings 
conferred  on  men  by  civil  organization,  and,  on  the  other, 
of  the  evils  of  restraint,  and  the  justice  as  well  as  the  ne- 
cessity of  leaving  free  action  and  separate  responsibility  to 
each  of  the  governed. 

We  hoped  to  find  in  Dr.  Lieber's  work,  the  publica- 
tion of  which  has  suggested  these  remarks,  a  full  statement 
of  the  altered  grounds  of  political  science,  and  of  the  new 
position  it  occupies  in  consequence  of  the  progress  of  civil 
liberty,  and  the  enlargement  and  diffusion  throughout  the 
civilized  world  of  liberal  opinions  in  matters  of  government. 


340  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

The  rights  and  duties  of  citizens  are  now  contemplated 
from  a  new  point  of  view,  and  their  relative  extent  and  im- 
portance must,  consequentl}',  be  determined  on  principles 
very  different  from  those  employed  by  former  writers  on 
the  same  subject.  After  a  full  examination  of  his  work, 
we  are  bound  to  say,  that  these  expectations  were  disap- 
pointed. It  would  be  too  much  to  assert,  that  the  writer 
seems  never  to  have  perceived  the  necessity  of  founding 
his  scheme  of  political  duties  on  a  different  basis  from  that 
adopted  by  his  predecessors  ;  but,  rejecting  the  old  theory, 
he  has  offered  none  to  supply  its  place, — none,  at  least, 
which,  from  a  precise  statement  of  principles,  and  definite 
application  of  them  to  certain  cases,  affords  any  solution  to 
the  numerous  questions  contained  in  the  science.  The 
writer  has  evidently  bestowed  much  thought  on  the  subject. 
Some  of  the  arguments  bearing  on  particular  points  are 
lucid  and  satisfactory,  and  many  of  the  illustrations  are 
striking  and  ingenious.  But  there  is  a  great  want  of  meth- 
od. We  find  no  regular  succession  of  topics,  no  consecu- 
tive evolution  of  principles  ;  and,  therefore,  after  the  most 
careful  perusal  of  the  work,  one  is  wholly  at  a  loss  to  de- 
termine, whether  the  author  has  any  system  of  morals  and 
politics  or  not. 

Political  Ethics  may  be  defined  as  the  moral  theory  of 
political  conduct,  or  that  branch  of  general  ethics  which 
treats  of  the  rights  and  duties  of  citizens.  The  present 
work  is  divided  into  two  books ;  one  of  them  treating  of  the 
general  scheme  of  morals,  the  other  relating  to  the  origin 
of  society,  and  to  men  considered  as  members  of  organized 
communities.  The  first  book,  either  from  the  limited  space 
allotted  to  it,  or  because  the  author  did  not  propose  to  him- 
self a  full  discussion  of  the  whole  theory  of  ethics,  is  meagre 
and  unsatisfactory.  A  better  course  would  have  been  to 
omit  it  altogether.     The  om.ission  would  have  injured  only 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  341 

in  appearance  the  completeness  of  the  plan.  The  writer 
of  the  Leviathan  had  a  similar  purpose  in  view,  but  to  exe- 
cute it,  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  subject. 
He  proposed  to  establish  a  philosophy  of  despotism  ;  and 
his  object  was  so  peculiar  and  strongly  marked,  so  repug- 
nant to  the  principles  of  common  sense,  that  he  was  forced 
to  go  very  far  back,  and  gain  a  standing  point  for  his  theo- 
ry, by  distorthig  and  debasing  the  moral  nature  of  man. 
The  common  belief  respecting  the  ethical  part  of  human 
nature  was  destructive  of  his  political  system,  and  he  knew 
that  this  belief  must  be  uprooted,  before  his  theory  could 
stand.  Hobbes  inculcated  more  slavish  principles  of  gov- 
ernment than  the  world,  in  all  its  unhappy  experience,  has 
ever  known  to  be  carried  into  practice,  on  the  strength  of 
an  ethical  system,  that  was  utterly  degrading  and  false. 
But  there  is  nothing  so  peculiar  in  the  present  writer's  views 
on  political  subjects,  as  to  require  a  separate  and  distinctive 
scheme  of  morals  for  their  support.  They  may  be  defend- 
ed on  any  system  of  moral  philosophy,  which  admits  the 
fundamental  distinction  between  right  and  wrong.  Indeed, 
the  book  cannot  be  said  to  contain  any  peculiar  doctrine  in 
ethics,  though  there  is  much  loose  and  general  commentary 
on  the  opinions  of  various  moralists. 

The  first  principle  in  ethics  is,  according  to  Dr.  Lieber, 
"  that  man  has  an  inalienable  moral  character,  and  cannot,  by 
his  own  consent  or  the  force  of  others,  become  a  non-moral 
being  ; "  —  a  very  safe  assertion,  though  somewhat  indefi- 
nite. In  another  place,  however,  we  find  this  character  de- 
fined to  consist  in  "  superior  intellect,  peculiarly  expansive 
and  refinable  sympathy,  freedom  of  will,  and  rationality, 
(or  self-determination  of  volition,)  and  conscience."  Un- 
doubtedly, all  these  elements,  in  their  turn,  may  constitute, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  the  grounds  of  human  responsi- 
bility ;  since  a  being  deprived  of  either  would  not  be  an- 
29* 


342  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

swerable  for  his  conduct  to  the  same  extent,  as  one  who 
possessed  them  all.  But  as  each  of  them  separately,  by 
different  moralists,  has  been  made  the  foundation  of  the 
moral  character  of  man,  it  is  necessary,  in  a  system  which 
embraces  them  all,  to  point  out  the  particular  office  of  each 
with  great  distinctness.  Adam  Smith  explains  all  moral  phe- 
nomena by  the  operation  of  the  single  principle  of  sympa- 
thy. Butler  reduces  them  all  to  the  workings  of  conscience. 
Dr.  Price  traces  the  origin  of  all  moral  distinctions  to  the 
intellect.  Now,  if  an  eclectic  system  is  to  be  made  up  out 
of  these  several  theories,  the  distinctive  function  of  each 
element,  and  the  mode  of  cooperation  between  them  all, 
should  be  accurately  explained.  We  believe  that  such  an 
explanation  is  possible,  though  Dr.  Lieber  certainly  has  not 
attempted  it. 

In  the  first  place,  freedom  of  will  is  a  necessary  postulate 
at  the  outset  of  all  moral  investigations.  The  proof  of  free 
agency  belongs  to  metaphysical  inquiry  ;  it  must  be  taken 
for  granted  in  a  system  of  ethics.  With  this  point  assumed, 
the  next  step  may  be  taken  with  ease.  A  feeling  or  senti- 
ment of  the  good,  the  right,  the  just,  of  duty  and  obligation, 
exists,  just  as  much  as  the  emotion  excited  by  the  percep- 
tion of  beauty,  which,  indeed,  it  closely  resembles.  It  may 
be  ill-directed,  excited  on  wrong  occasions,  felt  in  an  im- 
proper degree ;  but  there  is  no  question  about  its  real  ex- 
istence, or  distinctive  character.  There  is  no  more  danger, 
for  instance,  of  our  confounding  the  moral  approbation  of  a 
virtuous  act  with  the  admiration  of  a  fine  statute  or  a  beau- 
tiful painting,  than  of  our  mistaking  love  for  hate,  fear  for 
joy,  or  losing  sight  of  the  separate  character  of  any  two 
passions.  We  may  fear  the  approach  of  that,  which,  when 
nearer  at  hand,  will  excite  a  rapture  of  pleasure.  Just  so,  a 
savage  may  approve  an  act,  which,  in  an  educated  state, 
he  would  view  with  detestation.  But  he  would  never  in  either 


POLITICAL    ETHICS,  343 

case  confound  the  two  emotions.  He  would  never  praise 
a  wrongful  deed  as  such,  or  blame  an  agent  for  an  act  of 
which  he  clearly  perceived  the  virtuous  character.  The 
separate  existence  of  a  distinctive  moral  feeling  is  the  sub-  ( 
stratum  of  our  ethical  nature,  —  the  fact  from  which  all  \ 
systems  must  proceed.  And  this  existence  is  proved  by  the 
consciousness  of  every  one,  by  the  criminal  laws  of  all  na- 
tions, by  the  vocabulary  of  every  language ;  for  words  cor- 
responding to  right  and  wrongs  ought  and  ought  not,  may 
be  found  in  every  tongue  that  is  or  has  been  spoken. 

When  it  has  been  shown,  that  a  moral  sentiment  exists  in 
all  men,  perfectly  distinct  in  kind  from  other  emotions,  and 
absolutely  superior  to  them  in  authority,  in  order  to  found 
an  ethical  system,  there  is  but  one  other  point  remaining  to 
be  established.  Do  men  agree  with  each  other,  not  merely 
in  the  nature  of  the  feeling,  but  in  the  character  of  the  acts 
by  which  it  is  excited  ?  This  is  perfectly  similar  to  the  ques- 
tion in  aesthetics,  —  whether  there  is  any  standard  of  taste. 
In  like  manner,  we  ask.  Is  there  any  standard  in  morals  ? 
Is  there  perfect  unanimity  atnong  mankind  in  their  estimate 
of  merit  and  demerit,  and  in  their  award  of  moral  praise 
and  blame  ?  Without  conceding  the  whole  ground  here, 
we  may  safely  attribute  much  influence  to  education.  Those 
are  evidently  mistaken,  who  seek  to  explain  the  entire  mat- 
ter by  the  effects  of  early  instruction.  Education  can  nev- 
er create  a  new  emotion,  though  it  may  modify  the  direc- 
tion of  one,  which  already  exists  in  the  mind.  The  dis- 
criminating eye  of  taste  is  not  gained  without  time  and 
study,  though  the  elements  of  it  exist  in  the  child's  admira- 
tion of  bright  colors,  smooth  surfaces,  and  regular  forms. 
But  a  brute  could  never  be  made  sensible  to  the  beauty  of 
a  fine  prospect,  for  a  susceptibility  to  this  peculiar  emotion 
forms  no  part  of  merely  animal  nature.  So  neither  could 
a  savage  attain  to  a  just  appreciation  of  the  relative  impor- 


344  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

tance  of  different  virtues,  tbonsh  he  intuitively  separates 
right  from  wrong.  He  may  frequently  misplace  virtues  on 
the  ascending  scale,  and  therefore,  when  a  conflict  of  du- 
ties occurs,  may  appear  to  make  utter  confusion  between 
rectitude  and  criminality,  though  in  truth,  he  has  only  judg- 
ed wrongly  of  comparative  excellence.  The  ancient  Spar- 
tan esteemed  patriotism  a  higher  virtue  than  honesty,  and 
encouraged  boys  in  the  practice  of  thieving,  that  they  might 
become  more  able  to  overreach  the  common  enemy.  Mod- 
ern intelligence  has  reversed  this  decision,  and  awarded  im- 
mortal honor  to  the  man,  who  would  die  for  his  country, 
but  would  not  commit  a  dishonest  action  to  save  it.  The  very 
mistake  of  the  Spartan,  far  from  proving  his  insensibility  to 
the  superiority  of  virtue,  is  of  a  kind  that  a  brute,  or  a  being 
having  no  moral  nature,  would  be  incapable  of  committing. 
The  natural  but  untrained  susceptibility  of  a  child  may  lead 
him  to  prefer  the  bright  colors  of  a  daub,  to  the  masterpiece 
of  a  Raphael.  But  who  adduces  this  fact  to  disprove  the 
naturalness  and  universality  of  the  first  principles  of  taste, 
or  to  show  that  the  general  preference  of  chaste  coloring 
and  correct  design  is  merely  arbitrary  and  conventional  ? 
Yet  equally  absurd  is  the  reasoning  of  the  sophist,  who 
would  deny  the  existence  of  natural  law,  because  some 
savage  tribes  allow,  and  even  encourage,  great  deviations 
from  it  in  practice. 

Examined  in  this  way,  the  number  of  these  dissentient 
opinions  is  much  reduced,  and  the  consideration  of  them 
becomes  a  secondary  matter.  We  have  hazarded  these 
remarks  upon  them,  because,  from  the  space  allotted  to  the 
subject  in  Dr.  Lieber's  work,  and  the  number  of  instances 
adduced,  he  evidently  regards  them  as  a  formidable  ob- 
stacle to  the  establishment  of  an  ethical  system.  The 
whole  discussion  is  properly  referred  to  another  chapter  in 
ethical   inquiries,  which   relates  to  the  criterion  of  moral 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  345 

conduct.  If  habit  and  early  example  have  so  great  an  in- 
fluence on  our  estimate  of  motives  and  actions,  if  a  conflict 
of  duties  frequently  occurs,  if  complex  cases  are  often 
presented,  which  need  to  be  analyzed,  before  the  course 
of  virtue  in  relation  to  them  is  made  plain,  it  is  important 
to  ascertain,  whether  there  be  not  some  common  element 
in  all  virtuous  conduct,  which  may  be  used  as  an  unerring 
test  of  rectitude.  Some  writers  maintain  this  problem  to 
be  solved  by  the  discovery,  that  all  the  qualities  of  mind 
and  action,  which  are  generally  approved  as  right,  tend 
also  to  the  order  and  well-being  of  society.  Obedience  to 
the  moral  law  may  often  require  self-sacrifice  on  the  part 
of  the  individual,  but,  in  its  general  consequences  to  others, 
must  always  be  productive  of  good.  Whatever  is  right,  in 
the  long  run  is  also  expedient.  But,  as  it  cannot  be  de- 
nied, that  the  converse  of  this  proposition,  in  which  form 
only  it  is  useful  as  a  rule,  is  liable  to  much  abuse,  some 
moralists  have  earnestly  opposed  its  adoption. 

An  unfortunate  prejudice  against  any  reference  to  ex- 
pediency in  doubtful  cases  has  arisen  from  an  ambiguity  in 
the  meaning  of  the  term.  The  only  kind  of  utility,  that 
can  be  used  as  a  criterion  of  right,  consists  in  the  good  of 
others,  of  mankind,  —  in  the  general  good.  To  make  pri- 
vate advantage,  or  the  interests  of  the  individual  our  guide, 
is  mere  selfishness.  But  it  is  the  dictate  of  pure  benevo- 
lence, to  assume  a  watchful  regard  to  the  interests  of  our 
fellow-men,  as  the  rule  of  moral  conduct.  We  observe, 
farther,  that  the  use  of  expediency  as  a  test  is  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  from  assuming  it  to  be  the  principle  of  virtuous 
action.  It  is  only  in  complex  cases,  that  we  have  any 
need  of  a  criterion  at  all,  and  even  then,  we  approve  the 
act,  not  because  it  is  expedient,  but  because  its  expediency 
proves  that  it  is  right.  To  resolve  our  whole  approbation 
of  virtue  into  that  inward  satisfaction,  which  results  from 


346 


POLITICAL    ETHICS. 


the  appearance  of  utility,  as  Adam  Smith  observes,  is  to 
have  "  no  other  reason  for  praising  a  man,  than  that  for 
which  we  commend  a  chest  of  drawers."  But  when  we 
contend  for  nothing  more  than  the  invariable  coincidence 
of  virtuous  conduct  with  the  well-being  of  society,  the  re- 
mark, that  the  perception  of  utility  is  wholly  distinct  from 
the  feeling  of  right,  is  true,  but  irrelevant.  We  avail  our- 
selves of  this  coincidence,  only  in  order  to  detect  one  ele- 
ment by  the  presence  of  the  other  ;  —  never  confounding 
the  separate  emotions,  with  which  the  two  are  properly  re- 
garded. Placing  the  question  on  this  ground,  the  differ- 
ence of  opinion  is  very  slight.  It  is  only  inverting  the 
terms  of  the  proposition.  "  Whatever  is  useful,  is  right," 
says  the  utilitarian  ;  "  whatever  is  right,  is  useful,"  says  his 
opponent.  There  is  little  room  for  contest  on  the  theory, 
therefore,  though  in  practice  the  difference  may  be  very 
wide.  A  single  regard  to  the  consequences  of  actions 
leads  to  short-sighted  and  illiberal  views  of  the  real  in- 
terests of  society,  to  a  cold  depreciation  of  remote  and  ele- 
vated good,  and  an  exaggerated  estimate  of  the  importance 
of  immediate  and  tangible  effects.  It  is  true,  that  these 
evils  proceed  from  the  abuse  of  a  principle,  which,  philo- 
sophically considered  and  properly  carried  out,  affords  no 
support  to  such  degrading  opinions  and  conduct.  But,  if 
the  tendency  to  such  abuse  be  so  strong,  that  nearly  all  the 
advocates  of  the  principle  have  fallen  into  it,  then  the  fact 
constitutes  a  well-founded  objection  to  the  theory  itself;  at 
least,  until  this  last  be  so  far  amended,  either  in  its  nature 
or  its  application,  as  entirely  to  obviate  the  risk  of  miscon- 
ception. On  the  other  hand,  there  is  danger,  lest  a  deep 
reverence  for  personal  convictions  of  duty  and  rectitude, 
unaided  or  untrammelled  by  any  reference  to  expediency, 
should  generate  a  species  of  fanaticism  in  morals,  that 
would  be  none  the  less  turbulent  and  destructive  in  its  ef- 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  347 

fects,  because  accompanied  with  perfect  sincerity  of  in- 
tention and  the  noblest  spirit  of  self-sacrifice.  The  ex- 
istence of  this  danger  is  not  incompatible  with  the  previous 
assertion,  that  all  conduct  which  is  right  is  necessarily  ex- 
pedient ;  for,  though  mischief  cannot  result  from  absolute 
rectitude  and  justice,  it  may  from  individual  views  and  con- 
victions of  duty,  which,  as  we  have  too  good  reason  to  ac- 
knowledge, may  be  mistaken  and  deceptive. 

All  will  admit,  that  an  action,  wholly  indifferent  in  itself 
and  in  connexion  with  ordinary  circumstances,  may  ac- 
quire, from  a  change  of  position  and  from  being  related  to 
a  different  class  of  events,  a  decided  moral  character, 
either  for  good  or  for  evil.  A  responsible  agent  is  then 
no  longer  at  liberty,  as  he  was  formerly,  to  do  or  to  refrain 
from  doing,  as  the  mere  impulse  of  the  moment  may 
direct.  The  deed  may  spring  from  the  same  motive,  and 
be  effected  by  the  same  physical  movement ;  but,  from  the 
change  in  its  relations,  it  now  leads  to  a  different  result. 
He  is  bound  to  consider  it  as  a  whole,  and  to  govern  his 
conduct  by  the  character  of  the  event,  which  he  perceives 
must  inevitably  follow.  To  a  rational  being,  endowed  with 
the  capacity  of  judging  of  the  future  from  the  past,  the 
consequences  of  the  act  become  a  part  of  the  act  itself, 
and  he  has  no  right  to  direct  himself  by  what  is  confessed- 
,  ly  a  partial  view.  Every  one  acknowledges  this,  when  the 
results  are  so  immediate,  that  they  are  commonly  blended 
with  the  primitive  deed.  Death  is  the  consequence  of  the 
assassin's  stroke  ;  but  is  he  not  responsible  for  it  ?  Can 
he  plead,  that  he  has  only  struck  a  blow  with  an  axe,  and 
therefore  incurred  no  more  guilt  than  the  simple  artisan, 
who  wields  the  same  implement  in  his  daily  toil  ?  This  is 
an  extreme  case,  it  is  true  ;  but  the  consequences  may  be- 
come more  and  more  remote  by  imperceptible  degrees, 
and  we  may  well  ask,  at  what  point  the  obligation  to  con- 


348  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

sider  them  ceases.  When  does  the  agent  become  entitled, 
in  common  phrase,  "only  to  do  his  duty  in  the  act  itself, 
and  leave  the  consequences  to  an  overruling  Providence  "  ? 
Certainly,  not  while  he  is  able  to  foresee  and  provide  for 
those  consequences  himself,  any  more  than  he  would  be 
justified  in  omitting  daily  labor,  and  relying  for  support  on 
Him,  who  hears  the  cry  of  the  young  ravens,  and  clothes 
the  lilies  of  the  field.  The  responsibility  of  the  agent 
ceases  only  with  his  power.  When  the  results  of  the 
action  extend  beyond  human  ken,  when  the  wisdom  of 
man  cannot  foresee  their  character,  nor  his  power  provide 
against  their  occurrence,  then  he  is  justified  in  leaving 
them  to  the  goodness  of  Omnipotence.  He  is  not  to  wait 
for  absolute  certainty  in  this  foresight,  but  is  bound  to  act 
on  those  reasonable  grounds  of  expectation,  a  regard  to 
which  constitutes  ordinary  prudence.  If  he  is  not  entitled 
openly  to  sacrifice  the  happiness  of  others,  he  has  no  right 
to  hazard  it. 

Our  remarks  on  the  portion  of  Dr.  Lieber's  work,  that 
professes  to  treat  of  "  Ethics  general  and  political,"  have 
been  extended  so  far,  that  we  have  little  space  for  noticing 
the  second  book,  which  should  contain  the  application  of 
his  moral  principles  to  the  theory  of  politics.  The  want 
of  system  in  this  part  of  the  treatise  renders  an  analysis  of 
it  impossible;  —  desultory  remarks  hardly  admit  of  abridg-, 
ment.  The  book  opens  with  a  tolerably  fair  enunciation 
of  the' question  respecting  the  origin  of  government  and  the 
duty  of  civil  obedience.  But  instead  of  proceeding  at  once 
to  discuss  this  important  point,  the  author  flies  off"  in  a  di- 
gression about  the  institution  of  property.  The  advantages 
of  this  institution  are  brought  out  with  some  distinctness ; 
but,  as  the  whole  inquiry  is  obviously  of  a  secondary  char- 
acter, its  introduction  at  this  point  only  injures  the  con- 
nexion, and   throws  no  light  on  the   main    subject.     The 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  349 

consideration  of  any  question  relating  to  property  obviously 
comes  after  the  settlement  or  determination  of  that  civil 
authority,  which,  if  it  does  not  create,  undoubtedly  restrains, 
modifies,  and  regulates  the  institution  itself.  Some  remarks 
are  made  on  the  question  of  copyright,  which  has  recently 
attracted  much  attention  at  home  and  abroad,  and  is  now 
under  discussion  in  the  legislatures  of  several  nations.  The 
argument  on  this  head,  in  favor  of  the  author's  privilege, 
may  be  taken  as  a  favorable  specimen  of  the  writer's 
manner. 

Dr.  Lieber  does  not  assert,  however,  that  the  allowance 
of  perpetual  copyright  is  the  dictate  of  natural  justice.  But 
we  believe,  that  this  point  may  be  fully  supported.  The 
opponents  of  the  natural  right  rest  their  argument  on  the 
analogy  between  the  making  of  a  book  and  the  invention  of 
a  machine.  Yet  the  distinction  between  the  two  cases  is 
perfectly  obvious.  The  duration  of  a  patent  right  is  prop- 
erly limited  to  a  term  of  years,  because  it  is  very  possible, 
that,  within  this  time,  another  person  may  hit  upon  the  same 
invention.  No  monopoly  is  justifiable,  that  deprives  the 
community  of  an  article,  which  they  would  otherwise  have 
enjoyed.  If  Faust  and  his  associates  had  never  lived,  the 
invention  of  the  art  of  printing  could  not  have  been  delayed 
for  many  years.  If  Watt  had  not  effected  his  improvement 
of  the  steam-engine,  our  countryman  Perkins,  or  some 
other  ingenious  mechanic,  would  doubtless  have  accom- 
plished the  same  end.  The  latter  cannot  be  barred  of  his 
right  for  ever,  because  the  former  anticipated  him  by  a 
short  period  ;  for,  in  civilized  society,  no  rights  can  be  en- 
joyed, that  are  not  compatible  with  the  equal  rights  of  oth- 
ers. The  natural  duration  of  a  patent  is  the  time  by  which 
the  first  inventor  has  anticipated  the  second.  As  this  peri- 
od cannot  be  accurately  ascertained  for  each  case,  an  arbi- 
trary portion  of  time  is  selected,  that  may  be  considered  as 
30 


350  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

the  average  interval  between  the  first  and  second  invention. 
But  this  reasoning  is  wholly  inapplicable  in  the  case  of  au- 
thorship, for  there  is  no  possibility,  humanly  speaking,  that 
two  men,  without  concert  or  knowledge  of  each  other's 
labors,  should  chance  upon  making  the  same  book.  If 
John  Milton  had  not  written  Paradise  Lost,  it  never  would 
have  been  written.  If  Shakspeare  had  not  lived,  Lear, 
Hamlet,  and  Othello  would  never  have  been  represented. 
The  public  lose  nothing,  therefore,  by  the  perpetuity  of  the 
author's  privilege,  for  they  are  wholly  indebted  to  him  for 
the  work ;  as  they  never  could  have  enjoyed  it  without  his 
agency,  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  dictate  the  terms  on  which 
it  shall  be  received.  If  he  chooses  to  keep  the  manuscript 
in  his  desk,  instead  of  printing  it,  they  cannot  wrest  it  from 
him.  If  he  prefers  to  publish  it,  the  act  is  a  benefaction  to 
the  community,  of  greater  or  less  value,  in  proportion  to 
the  importance  of  the  work.  But  they  cannot  make  the 
partial  gift  a  total  one,  and  insist  on  receiving  the  book 
upon  their  own  terms  ;  any  more  than  they  can  take  by 
force  from  the  mechanic  an  article,  which  he  has  complet- 
ed with  his  ov/n  hands,  assigning  him  whatever  value  they 
see  fit  in  exchange.  The  right  of  an  individual  to  the  pro- 
ducts of  his  manual  labor,  and  that  of  an  author  to  the 
fruits  of  his  mental  toil,  rest  upon  precisely  the  same  foot- 
ing ;  they  do  not  abridge  any  previously  existing  rights  of 
the  public.  By  natural  law,  then,  the  exclusive  and  per- 
petual privilege  of  the  writer  is  demonstrable. 

Next  to  the  question  of  copyright,  in  the  order,  or  rather 
the  disorder  of  subjects  in  Dr.  Lieber's  work,  are  introduc- 
ed remarks  on  civilization,  the  proper  state  of  nature,  the 
destiny  of  woman,  monogamy,  and  patriotism.  After  many 
desultory  observations  on  the  topics  thus  strangely  brought 
together,  the  author  returns  to  his  primary  question,  — 
What  is  the  state  }     He  defines  it  to  be  a  society  founded 


POLITICAL    ETHICS.  351 

on  the  relation  of  right,  just  as  a  family  is  a  society  kept 
together  by  mutual  affection.  To  adopt  his  own  language, 
"  the  state  is  a  jural  society,  as  a  church  is  a  religious  so- 
ciety, or  an  insurance  company  a  financial  association." 
It  would  be  difficult  to  frame  a  more  unsatisfactory  defini- 
tion, when  the  object  is  to  found  a  political  theory,  and  not 
merely  to  remark  on  the  obvious  fact  of  the  recognition  of 
justice  by  societies  as  well  as  individuals.  Church  mem- 
bers and  stockholders  have  rights  peculiar  to  themselves, 
and  perfectly  distinct  from  those  which  they  enjoy  in  their 
capacity  as  citizens  ;  and  one  aim  of  the  association  in 
either  case  is  to  preserve  these  rights  to  its  members.  But 
this  is  not  the  only  object  of  the  union,  nor  is  it  the  sole 
aim  of  the  state  to  protect  rights  ;  its  more  general  and 
leading  purpose  is,  to  promote  the  common  well-being  of 
its  subjects.  General  expediency,  not  the  mere  enforce- 
ment of  justice,  is  the  grand  motive  for  the  institution  of 
government.  Even  if  we  admit  the  correctness  of  Dr.  Lie- 
ber's  definition,  so  far  as  it  goes,  it  leaves  the  real  difficulty 
untouched.  We  seek  to  know  the  origin  of  that  authority 
of  the  government,  which  extends  over  the  individual  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave,  —  which  follows  him  in  his  jour- 
neyings,  controls  his  actions,  regulates  his  property,  com- 
mands his  services,  and,  in  certain  cases,  dooms  him  to 
imprisonment  and  death.  We  speak  of  its  pursuing  him  in 
every  change  of  place,  for  it  is  even  disputed  whether  a 
man  may  quit  his  country,  or  the  society  of  which  he  was 
originally  a  member ;  —  Great  Britain,  at  least,  claiming 
the  services  of  its  subjects  wherever  it  may  find  them, 
wholly  denying  their  right  to  shake  off  the  obligations  im- 
posed by  their  birth  under  its  jurisdiction.  But  if  we  allow 
this  right,  it  amounts  only  to  the  privilege  of  changing 
one's  allegiance,  not  of  renouncing  the  duty  altogether. 
The  emigrant  merely  lays  down  one  set  of  obligations  to 


352  POLITICAL    ETHICS. 

assume  another ;  unless,  indeed,  he  quits  the  society  of 
men  entirely,  and  accepts  the  inconveniences,  in  order  to 
enjoy  the  freedom,  of  perfect  solitude.  But,  if  he  prefers  to 
live  with  others,  the  rights  of  the  society  take  precedence 
of  his  rights  as  an  individual.  It  is  true,  the  authority  of 
the  state  acknowledges  certain  limits ;  but  the  narrowest 
circle,  within  vvhi«  h  its  powers  are  ever  confined,  still  em- 
braces a  wide  tract,  and  the  question  respecting  the  origin 
and  basis  of  these  powers  remains  for  solution.  We  do  not 
know,  that  the  full  extent  and  difficulty  of  this  problem 
have  been  perceived  by  any  writer  on  natural  law.  Cer- 
tainly, it  is  not  solved  by  the  author  before  us,  though 
some  theory  in  relation  to  it  must  form  the  point  of  depar- 
ture for  every  system  of  political  ethics.  To  assert  with 
him,  that  "the  state  exis  s  of  necessity,  and  is  the  natural 
state  of  man,"  is  to  confound  an  organized  community, 
which  is  a  perfectly  artificial  thing,  with  a  mere  aggrega- 
tion of  individuals,  formed  by  the  social  propensities  of 
men,  but  possessing  no  authority  beyond  that  which  is 
founded  on  universal  consent.  A  full  statement  and  solu- 
tion of  this  problem,  with  a  view  to  its  practical  application 
at  the  present  day,  would  form  a  valuable  contribution  to 
moral  and  political  science. 


THE    END. 


B791.B778  ^  ^.    ^ 

Critical  essays  on  a  few  subjects 


Theological  Semmary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00160  5452 


